Friends in High Places
by Comfysockz
Summary: When a quirky young librarian from the one and only Limbo Public Library is almost killed on her way home, a heroic womanizing Dante saves her life. As the two become closer, Dante realizes that his family isn't the only one with a past. This girl is more than what she seems, and is ready to spread her wings and fly. Dante x OC.
1. A Perfect Stranger

_**Limbo City, 2 in the morning, light rain**_

When my eyes opened, I realized that the side of my face was suction-cupped to the check-out desk with my drool. _How long have I been asleep?_ I thought. I yanked my heavy head free of the drool spot and looked hazily up at the library clock, a German cuckoo clock I bought at a yardsale for the library. It was still chiming and the little girl was coming out of the little wooden doors to water some painted flowers. I realized that the gloomy little song it played was what had woken me up, a messed up version of Wiegenlied, a German lullaby. Something was wrong with the little music box inside it, a piece was missing that made certain notes go down half a step on the scale. Ting- _bong. _Ting- _bong._ It had just turned 2, and I rolled my eyes at myself. _This isn't what a head librarian is supposed to be doing at 2 am,_ I nagged to myself. The ancient old apple computer at my desk was still on, and the purplish galaxy wallpaper was glaring back at me heatedly, telling me the poor thing should have been turned off hours ago. I push the circular white power button and pick myself up out of the chair, straightening my generic black pencil skirt and tucking my greekish looking blackened brown hair behind my ears. A couple strands had gotten stuck to the side of my face from laying on it, and I hurriedly ran a tired hand through my disgustingly thick curls.

_I wonder if Louis is still here. _I look over at the far corner of my small public library and barely make out the puffy edge of Louis's coat hidden in a Horton Hears a Who bean-bag chair. I push up the thin bar of wood separating me from the rabble and trod over to the homeless man in the children's section. "Louis." I say, groggily. "Louis are you still awake?" A wrinkled up brown face turns to me and replies, "Is it time for me to leave Ms. Moses? You let me stay an awfully long time tonight, lady. Awfully kind of ya."

I give him a small smile. "I wish I could just let you stay here all night. But you know that the police don't really like that idea too well."

Louis laughs and says, "Oh, it's alright, Ms. Moses. You treat me too nice anyway. Always sharin' a nice breakfast, lunch... dinner too if I can't afford it." Louis stands up and picks up his military duffle bag beside him, then grabs his cane, feeling his way around the Thomas the Train trainset and the other Dr. Seus bean bags he had piled together to make a small bed.

"Speaking of the police and things like that, nobody strange came in here tonight did they? Anybody trying to steal something?" I asked Louis as he meandered over to me. His eyes closed and his face twisted up into one of disappointment. "Yeah," he grumbled, "Somebody tried to pick up that Bible again, you know, the one you let me read, ya brought from ya house?"

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "The Bible again, huh?"

"Yeah, but this guy was different. He had a lighter in his hand, like he wanted to burn it!" My eyes snapped to Louis' in disbelief. "He tried to _burn it_? Louis, when did this happen!?"

"About three hours ago. I scared him off though. He dropped it on the ground when he ran but I put it back." Louis proceeds to point to where it is on the shelf. "It got a little tinge a flame on it though, but not much." I speed walk past Louis in the direction of my Bible and pick it off of the shelf to get a better look at the damage. The bottom of the Bible had a bit of black on it, where the binding had started to burn. "This is ridiculous," I muttered, "Louis, I'm just going to take this home. This has been in my family for such a long time, I couldn't bare to see anything else happen to it..."

"I understand, Ms. Moses," agreed Louis, grabbing his backpack off the floor and swinging it slowly over his shoulder. "Ain't it strange, Ms. Moses? That Bible stirred up a lot of trouble around here, but it's the Word of God! It's like, when people in this messed up town see it, they go _crazy on that thing_."

I thought back on all the other times people had tried to steal it or tear it up and I started to feel terrible inside. "These people are brainwashed, Louis. I swear they are." With the Bible in my hands I feel like I can distance myself from them, like it's the only clean thing left. I rub my eyes and walk over to Louis. I take his hand and help him to the door, grabbing my black button up detective coat from the back of my chair as we pass by the desk. I grab a couple of grocery bags and double them to hide my Bible on the way home. Maybe if no one can see what it is I won't have any trouble.

I walk out the door with Louis and take my pink key ring out of my coat pocket. "I'll bring you something really good tomorrow, Louis, some biscuits and gravy or something from the diner. Real hardy." I said quietly, jerking the key around in the lock until the warped wooden doors to the library finally click shut. A light, chilly rain was misting down, and I wanted to make sure Louis would be alright. We always double checked before I went home. "You've got your blanket, haven't you?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm good to go. You head on home, it's gettin' late, lady. And be sure no crazies steal that book."

I looked at the poor little crippled man in front of me and grabbed his shoulder, thankful for his presence. I walked him over to the big wooden bench beside the front doors and pulled out his blanket from his pack. Feeling warmth spread from my heart all the way to my chilled finger tips, I formed a small bubble around the bench like always, an invisible white shield to protect him from any demonic forces that might come to visit. I put the red plaid blanket over him and whispered, "Keep warm, then, and I'll see you in the morning. You better believe I'm protecting this with my life."

Although the rain was light, it had still managed to soak through my jacket. _Why didn't I take the car today? Oh yeah, because I ate a granola bar and decided I needed to exercise more. _Either way, my apartment wasn't very far from the library, maybe 3/4 of a mile. But going through this shit hole of a city at half past two in the wee hours of the morning with a huge Bible isn't exactly a walk in the park. It was officially freezing now, and I could feel the color draining from my cheeks and bare hands, even if they were shoved deep down in my pockets. The grey air of my breath followed me around, like my own little cold cloud, and water droplets covered the plastic bag like carbonation.

I was swiftly approaching a nightclub that my girlfriends' and I sometimes go to called Lilith's. Bass pounded through the paper thin cement walls of the club, and strange electronic sounds poured out onto the sidewalk, echoing on the buildings across the street. An eerie green light shown from inside, going on and off as people went in and out of the place. The lights very dimly illuminated this little patch of Limbo City in a hauntingly unripe color.

"Come _on,_ Dante! I can't wait to get you home, baby." Some slutty blonde "angel" in a silver string bikini was staggering out of the club holding on to a chiseled looking street rat in a wife beater. He was chugging a bottle of Chivas Regal and holding onto another angel with a short bob died a disgustingly dingy pink. She had her hands on his stomach, tracing the lines in his abdominal muscles. Dropping the now empty bottle on the ground and letting it shatter, the dark haired man grabbed the blonde girl and began making out with her, grabbing her ass and pulling her hair, while the girl with the pink hair hailed a cab, saying things like, "Oh my God!" and "I wish you would do that to _me,_ Dante!"

A dinky little yellow cab stopped at the edge of the sidewalk, the silhouette of a fat, probably bald, man hit the back windows, and the cab's only bumper sticker was an advertisement for Virility. The girl walked up to the cab as the driver rolled his window down and she began talking to him, her forearms on the window and her butt in the air as she bent over to tell him to wait. She strutted back over to her angel friend and her catch and stepped in between them, begging for attention and putting her lipstick smeared mouth all over him.

After a few seconds I realized that I had stopped and had been staring at this scene for about a minute now. My face turned red. It was like I was a Bible clutching peeping Tom! Talk about get a room! But, it was so entertaining to watch! Like in a bad action movie where the douchey main guy finally gets it on with a big boobed ditz in the back of his black El Camino with a machine gun strapped to the hood. I wrapped my jacket closer around my 23-year-old-virgin-librarian-and-proud body and put my head down, pushing myself past this motley crew with my grocery bag full of Holiness now clutched against me. All of a sudden, a tall womanizer drenched in Chivas walked into me, knocking me off my balance but not knocking me down.

I had dropped the Bible on the wet sidewalk! _Oh no, _I thought, _Did they see it? Do they know what it is?_ I scrambled on top of it and slid it back down into the bag, my already frozen legs now soaked with rain water. I stood back up and angrily looked around to see if they noticed. That douchebag! He deserves a good verbal slap for this!

"Hey! Watch where you're-"

Blue eyes. Big blue eyes were staring directly into mine. He was so attractive. Damn. Damn him. Damn it why is he so attractive? He's just here to find a bimbo to fuck and never call back, even after they write their numbers in lipstick on his bathroom mirror because they think their being creative and sexy. He's done this so many times, to so many different sluts, who knows which ones he actually remembers. His eyebrows are sleek, black, and slanted into a fierce look over his eyes, and his black shaggy hair was hanging just over them. It was insane.

"S-..." he paused, looking directly at me. "Sorry?" he said, drunkenly, slurred. He said it questioningly almost, like he didn't understand why I didn't want a random drunk guy standing over me. I didn't know what to do, so I just looked at him for a second, waiting for him to make the first move, motioning that this interaction was over.

Suddenly he walked off to the cab with his whores and piled in. I was relieved, thinking for a second there that he was going to try and make a move on me. Screaming and shouting, kissing and ass-grabbing, the gang shut the car door as the man told the driver where to go.

_He must be an ass man,_ I thought, thinking of how I don't have one.

_Oh my gosh, pull yourself fucking together. _

I flipped around and started speed walking down the sidewalk, clutching my poor Bible and watching the cab drive off in the same direction. I focused on the little car as it drove, teasing myself with the thought of him getting out again to talk to me. When the red tail lights disappeared around a corner, I stuck my head back down again and focused entirely on the way home, shaking the idiotic thing out of my head. I needed to focus on getting home. By now it must be 2:45, maybe even 3, and that was too close of a close call. I had to be back at the library at 8 tomorrow morning, so if I wanted a good enough sleep I'd better hurry.

I passed a few more obscure businesses and bars and approached an alleyway connecting to another street. A man in a hoodie was leaning up against the brick siding of the alley, looking down, I thought. My heels were making a light clicking sound, which seemed to grab his unwanted attention. I quickly passed him and stuffed my hand deeper into my pocket with the other one making sure the book didn't fall out this time. Who knows who or what that guy is, or what kind of things he thinks about doing. Several of my girlfriends have been assaulted by demons near here, so I'd better be careful.

I thought about the girls in the cab with _Dante _(even his name was perfectly suited to him). Would they be as afraid as me if they were in this situation? Or would they be even more afraid, since they were so familiar with sex and what it does to people? They didn't seem like demons to me, I didn't see a strange glow or something plain odd about them. But Dante, now that I think of it, had such _unnaturally blue eyes._ Maybe they really are natural, given his perfect physique it isn't that hard to believe. However, my neighbors pug dog turned out to be a Rage Spawn, so really, anything is possible.

Hang on a second.

Someone is behind me. Their footsteps are heavy and quick, like... _running?_ I barely have time to blink before a sweaty hand covers my mouth and an arm wraps around my left arm and waist. _This can't be happening to me!_ I tried to scream, but it was extremely muffled. I caught a glimpse of the person grabbing me and saw a flash of the mud brown hood I had seen earlier. He was trying to drag me back toward the alley he was standing in, and one of the heels on my strappy heels snapped under the pressure. The man grabbed my bag and threw it out of his way and onto the sidewalk. _No! _Kicking my useless shoe off, I used my now free arm to slam into his side, which might have hurt him a little bit but not enough to loosen his grip on me. I moved against him with all of my might, kicking him in the shins and ankles several times, which didn't help very much either. I was so scared I forgot to breathe, and the shadow of the alley was slowly enveloping me. He stuck his hand in my skirt and slammed my head to the wall.

My vision went blurry, and I could feel the contrasting warmth of my blood on my forehead in the frigid air. He flipped me around to face him, but I was so out of it I couldn't make out any facial features. He ripped a piece off of the bottom of my skirt with one hand, the other one was still covering my mouth somehow. But, wait. There was another hand holding a knife. The man had three arms.

I immediately wanted to throw up. The thing that was about to rape me was a demon. Suddenly the hand came off of my mouth to tie the piece of black cloth around it instead. He gagged me up, strands of my hair getting caught up in the quick knot he made. I smacked him away and tried to get up, but his strength was insane, and I never stood a chance. He knocked me back on the ground and took off my skirt. The cold air invaded and my legs began to shake even harder than they already had been. I was crying now, screaming under the piece of skirt as loud as I could, thrashing with all of my might against this unmovable thing.

_"You're pretty. Don't worry, sweetie, I won't hurt ya too bad, I promise,"_ he breathed, a terrible smell leaking from his mouth and sweaty body. He began to stroke my face and _shh_ me, telling me what he was going to do to me. _"I'm going to have my way with you, ya know. Take my time. Because you're mine for the night. You're mine."_

He picked up his knife from the cement ground and turned it around in his third hand, as the other two were holding me down to keep me from kicking him. He spread my legs, and put the blade of the knife in the band of my underwear. He began to laugh, slowly, and I could now focus my vision on his face. His eyes were glowing under his hood the same demonic green that came from the lights at Lilith's. At first I only saw the pair, then three, then four, then five, six, seven...

_ShhhhhINK!_

The demon man's smile turned upside down, into a look of complete despair. Suddenly, he fell on top of me, a huge weight crushing my shaking body. I screamed under the fabric of my ruined skirt and squirmed like a bug under a boot. A hand reached over and yanked on the demon's shoulder, flipping him over and setting me free. I was still screaming as I reached around to untie the gag. My hands were shaky, and I couldn't get a hold of anything. When I finally wrenched the disgusting thing off of me and out of my mouth I ran my hands through my hair and looked over at the dead guy laying across from me.

"Hey! Hey, are you alright?" I snapped my eyes up at the hand that had saved my life. It was that Dante guy, and he was alone. He kneeled down beside me and said, "You never see a demon in Limbo City before or something? Calm down. It's over."

I looked up at the cloudy night sky and genuinely asked God if he was joking. I was panting and sweaty and soaked to the bone from the now pouring rain. "Of course I've seen demons in Limbo Shitty." I mumbled breathily. "I've just never had one try to rape me before." Dante smiled and grabbed for me, picking me up and leaning me against the brick wall of the alley.

"Well, you're crackin' jokes, so that's a good sign." he laughed, crossing his arms. I laughed in a sort of relief, wiping the tears from my eyes and pushing my mop of black curls out of my face, tracing my fingers over the new bloody bump on my head. I heard the water from my hair hit the brick and knew that I was drenched clear through to the bone. I was freezing and shaking somewhat uncontrollably.

"Here". Dante took off his long red coat and wrapped it around my shoulders. Before I could tell him it was too cold out for him to give me his only semi-dry piece of clothing, he went to the end of the alley and stuck out a hand, waving down a cab. Looking at him completely soaking wet from the rain made me think of one of the cheap Highlander Romance novels we have at the library. There was always a part in the book where the tremblingly female protagonist goes on and on about how "his muscles glistened in the moonlight" or how "his muscles glistened with sweat" and how sexy it is. There was always so much glistening in so many pages. Well, I think I might be in one of those books. It was almost laughable how $3-romance-novel this night had become, and to be honest with you, I didn't mind. This is what every girl dreamed of happening to them right after an attempted rape, right?

I walked towards him, my head pounding like mad, from both the face to wall action and the knight in red leather armor that came after that. I looked up and down the street searching for my poor family Bible and found it laying in a puddle next to a couple restaurant dumpsters. I quickly ran up to it and picked up the massive thing to quickly realize that it was ruined. It had taken on so much water that nearly every page was unreadable. Even the binding was mushy and easily broken. Even so, I put it back in the grocery bag and tucked it back under my arm, turning around to face Dante leaning on the cab.

"Let's get you home," he shouted through the rain, waving for me to hurry up. I jogged up to him barefoot as he opened the cab door and we both got inside. The seats squeaked with the rainwater and it smelled like cigarettes but I didn't care. It was cramped and dark, with only the glowing mile meter and radio lighting up the interior of the car. "Y-you don't have to take me home," I stuttered from the cold. "It's late. You should g-go h-home too."

"Am I drivin' ya or what lady, make up ya mind." growled the driver, sipping out of his 42 ounce cup of Virility.

"Hold on man, we're using the cab. Where do you live and I'll make sure you get there safely." said Dante loudly.

I smiled and said, "13 Church Street... Near the park."

"Church Street." the driver grumbled. In the mirror I could see that his eyes weren't green and I felt a lot better. I sat back in my seat clutching the Bible as firmly to my chest as I could.

The seat of this cab felt gross and wet, making me feel bad for whoever had to ride in it next. My legs were right against it now that my skirt was gone. That's when I realized that the only thing that I was wearing on my lower half were my German Pride underwear, which proudly displayed dozens of wiener schnitzels and cartoon talk bubbles that said HOW'S THE WIENER? Good Lord. I quickly through the book on top of my lap to cover up my pride.

"What's so important about that thing? What even is it?" Dante was looking at my sorry excuse for a grocery bag and was obviously trying to figure out what could take up so many pieces of paper.

"It's a dictionary." I lied quickly. I looked up at him to see if he bought it and it seemed to work, until he started laughing. His smile was more of a sneer, and when he laughed he always closed his eyes, like it was all just too much. That's when I noticed the small scars and cuts, bruises and stitches on his face, throat, and arms, illuminated by passing street lamps. I wondered what he did to earn them.

"Even I have a dictionary, so they aren't exactly rare, are they? Let me guess, it's one of those dumb vampire romance stories and you're just too embarrassed to tell me about it. Is that it?" Dante was giving me a funny look, and I couldn't help but smile. "No, that's not it." I replied quietly, edging him on to guess again.

Dante suddenly put his hand on my head to look at my battle wound, which kind of hurt when he touched it, but I didn't say anything. "No, you're not that sort of girl. You're more of a history buff, aren't you? Battle of Waterloo shit, right? Am I right?"

We turned right into my neighborhood, and the taxi driver said, "She must be, look at this place man!" We all looked out the rain covered windows to my neighborhood, filled with massive houses and luxury apartments, all of which contained some of the wealthiest people in Limbo City. Sometimes even I forget about how pretty it is. "Some of these places are 200 years old. Old money baby, ya know what I mean?" the driver laughed.

Dante smiled and said, "Yeah, I know what you mean."

The driver slowed down to get a better look of the place, and the two were constantly pointing out things to each other, like how expensive that car was or how big her fake tits are. We were a few feet away when I said, "This one coming up on the right is mine. You can just pull into the driveway."

"You live in Limbo City and you have a driveway?" asked Dante with the hint of amazement in his voice.

"Driveways are a status symbol, huh?" I asked, teasingly.

"In my book they are! Come on, let's get you inside."

The driver pulled into the driveway and unlocked the doors, turned around and said, "It wasn't too long a distance, so it's $10. And $5 for takin' your whores back to Lillith's, Dante."

Dante rolled his eyes and pulled his wallet out of the back of his pants. "You're a greedy old bastard, aren't ya Mikey?" Mikey the driver started laughing and Dante kept digging through his wallet, exclaiming, "Well, after I go to the club you know I'm all outta singles so I'll just give you a twenty and you can keep the change for another night, okay Mikey?"

"Alright bud, you sure you don't need me to stay and give you a ride back to the fairground?" asked Mikey. Dante curled up his lip and shook his head, saying, "I need my exercise."

I got out of the car and thanked Mikey, waving to him as he left. "Old friend?" I asked Dante. I pulled out my pink key ring and began walking up towards the house. "Sure. You can say that." I smiled at him and shook my head, walking up the stairs to my front door.

The house was a three story white mansard, the first house in Limbo City (It was only Limbo back then). It had a wrap around porch and yes, a garage, added on in the twenties for my great grandfather's black 1929 Duesenberg Model J with red trim and seats (which I still have). It has five bedrooms, three full baths, and two half baths as well as a library, servant quarters, drawing room, and sunroom with a screened in porch. Every time I unlock the door to my home I think about that, and I think about Louis sitting out in the cold because the neighborhood won't let him in. I think about the two slutty angels going home to a single bedroom apartment that they share with four other people. And I think about myself, living here with nothing but a cat and some books for company in a house meant for a family that I don't have anymore. Then I turn the key and walk into the foyer, desperate to forget.

I lean there against the doorway and look at Dante standing with me on the porch. He was soaking wet, and in the yellow glow of the porch light I could see all of his features for the first time, and he could see mine.

"Nice panties."

I could feel myself blush a bright pink, and I quickly took his jacket off of my shoulders and handed it back to him. It smelled like sweat, cheap perfume, cigarettes, Chivas Royal, and him. He had a unique smell that I didn't dislike in the least. It reminded me of how a man, a gentleman, is supposed to smell- Oh God I've been reading too many Highlander romance novels. I blushed even harder at that thought and looked at my toes, which I had painted blue a few days before.

"Dante," I semi-mumbled. He looked at me more intensely now. "Please come in. You can..."

I was having a hard time forming words here. Dante was looking directly at me, emotionless, with his red coat slung over his shoulder.

"You can what?" he teased. I looked at him like a deer caught in headlights. I started inwardly choking myself for the preposterous idea of continuing to talk to this man in the middle of the night frozen solid in 10 degree weather.

"Dante," I semi-mumbled, looking at how the porchlight reflected on the navy blue of my toes. As I looked up again, his eyes were already on mine, and I could have sworn I could see myself in them they were so clear and sharp. "Why do you have to go to the fairground at 4 in the morning?" There were so many things I wanted to ask, but that was the most I could get out for the moment. I could just picture Dante with a hand full of cotton candy as big as his head riding around all night on the tea cups.

Dante gave a small grin and mumbled back, "I've got a trailer over there. It's where I spend most of my time," he paused, "When I'm not working, I guess you could call it."

I was starting to feel really tired, and I closed my eyes and sighed at the man my weird mind had decided to suddenly become extremely attracted to. "You live in a trailer at the fairground? You've got to be kidding me, man. Only weirdos and tourists go to the fairground, you know that."

"You callin' me a weirdo for living at the fairground, babe? What would someone who lives in the biggest house in Limbo City know about my trailer anyway? You got your piece of paradise and I've got mine."

I gave him a wide smile and laughed, crossing my arms and propping myself up against the door frame. Across the street, I could see a light on at Mrs. Washam's house, and her little busy-body frame peeking out from behind her lace curtains. Remembering that the head librarian was standing out in the open in nothing but my German pride underwear and a messed up, unbuttoned black jacket talking to a stripper loving street rat, I immediately wrapped my coat around me again and backed up into the house. Oh God, I thought, I'm sure this'll get around.

I was having a hard time forming words here. Dante was looking directly at me, a questioning look on his face, with his red coat slung over his shoulder. "The neighbors," I said, "She saw me out here half naked! Come in, quick." I grabbed him and pulled him inside, shutting the door faster than the speed of sound behind him.

Dante started laughing with that sexual snear all over his face. "No seriously, that lady's been trying to kick me out of the neighborhood since Daddy died."

What do I do now? I don't want him to have to walk home in the rain, but if he stays here that bitch ass across the street might have me arrested for all I know! They wouldn't let me give Louis a place to stay, so what will the housing committee say about Dante? It reminded me of all the trouble Mrs. Washam caused about 10 years ago now, after Daddy and Mother were in the car accident.

Not even a day after my parents had died that bitch was at my doorstep, ready to kick me out on my tail so that she could take the house. She was so jealous of me and the money Daddy left me in the will, old family money tracing its' way back to 1666, when Limbo was founded by my grandfather, Nathaniel Moses. Mrs. Washam always claimed that _her _family were the original inhabitants of my property, even though the Moses family graveyard was laid to rest not but a few hundred feet from the house. The name Washam doesn't even appear in Limbo City documents until the early 1900s, when they started a jewelry store in the old town. The family is made up of nothing but trouble makers, always chasing after the things they want no matter the cost.

"I shouldn't be here." Dante's sudden outburst brought me back to earth. "It's four in the morning and I know I'm not exactly the nicest guy in the world."

I laughed. "Compared to that whore across the street you're an angel. Stay for a minute if you want."

"I should go back home, and you should get some sleep. You've had a rough night, and God, I don't even know your name, sweetheart." He ran a quick hand through his hair and laughed, reaching for the door. "I've overstayed my welcome."

Whatever look I gave him next made his cheeky snear turn down at the edges. I wrapped my arms around myself and stared at him sadly. Who says I can't have friends besides the homeless man at the library? I can befriend the randomly bloodsoaked womanizer too, right?

"My name is Bellatrix. Bellatrix Moses." Dante froze and gave me an odd look. He dropped his hand from the doorknob and I took the opportunity to shake it before he tried to run off again. Dante smiled and he gave a firm handshake, his hands rough in places and callused in others.

"Bellatrix?" he halfway mumbled. "That's an _intense_ name."

"Thanks." I said confidently, letting go of his hand and leaving my perfectly practiced handshake. "It means female warrior. Like a gladiatrix or something." I laughed at how silly I sounded pretending he actually cared about what my name meant.

Dante shook his head. "That's awesome. I would have thought your name was something generic. Like Rachel, or Lauren. But no, Bellatrix describes you perfectly I think. I mean, you're not exactly like most of the girls in Limbo City."

My eyebrows were raised in disbelief, since usually I was either laughed at or compared to the Harry Potter character. Also, _I look like a Lauren? _But the other thing he said, about me being different from other girls made me smile. He basically just told me that I wasn't an all around bitch! Sweet!

Now we were both standing in the front entryway; I had successfully maneuvered him away from the door, possibly peeking his interest in getting to know me further. For some reason the thought of becoming friends with this man felt good, some kind of achievement for a little lonely librarian girl to be proud of. The warmth of my house and its' smell was comforting after a long night out in the rain and a welcoming glow of the old Tiffany lamps made the space feel cozy. Maybe it was just because there was a visitor, something the house hadn't had for 5 years, atleast. Or maybe it was because I wasn't the only one who was proud of myself for making a new friend, but the house too. The house was the only part of my family that I had left; lucky for me they had never left. I still had the memories, and I put them into that big old house each with their own room and nook and cranny and cupboard. Dante didn't just shake my hand, but the congratulatory hand of my family as well.

I felt good, even if I was tired, and I wanted him to stay. I knew I had to say something pretty quick, or else he might walk out that door back to the fairground never to be seen again.

"Dante," I began, "If I asked you to stay, would you?"

The scraggly, strapping young man with dark hair and blue eyes pondered for a second before finally agreeing. "Sure, I'll stay. You having a sleepover or something?"

I was beyond delighted and giggly. "Well, you don't have to braid my hair but I'm up for the company!" I healthily laughed my usual way: loud and crashing. This made him laugh, and together we moved toward the living room.

The living room - or sitting room - was to the right, through two stained glass double doors with ivy and purple flowers on them. It's walls were painted a calm and studious earthy green, with natural wood crown molding and ancient hardwood floors. Of any room in the house, this is definitely where I felt the most comfortable. The only thing about the room that I had changed when my parents passed away were the old victorian couches, for which I traded for a much more comfier reclining one from Rooms to Go. For shame.

"This is the living room. It's very comfortable here, and is where I spend most of my time other than the library or the kitchen." I said, proud of my home and eager to show it off. Dante looked impressed, but mostly intrigued by the portrait of my mother that hung on the wall.

"This woman is gorgeous," he said as he edged closer towards the painting. "Who is she?"

I joined him where he stood looking so intently at the picture and grinned longingly at the beautiful woman in the picture. "That's my mother, Rosamunde Margot Bachmeier Moses. Kind of a mouthful, but I think a person as beautiful and good as she deserves a name just as noble."

Dante crossed his arms and said, "So your mother was German?"

"Yes," I quickly replied. "She was born and raised there. My father met her on a vacation to Munich when they were both about 20 years old. Although I've never been there she taught me a lot about Germany. I speak the language fluently, but I never really get a chance to speak it anymore."

"That's pretty neat. You and her look a lot alike, you know? Your hair, your eyes, your nose, your skin. Just glancing at that picture you would think it was you."

Pushing my huge brownish-black curls behind my ears I thanked him. "She was a wonderful person."

Dante shifted back over to me and frowned. "I don't remember anything about my mother. I don't think I ever even met her really."

My face made it obvious that I was shocked about what he had just said and he quickly explained. "She died when I was real young in some kind of accident; they never really made that clear at the orphanage. I had a really bad fever when I was about 7 years old, and it made me forget everything I'd ever lived up to that point. So who knows what I really had, because I can't remember for the life of me- probably never will."

Dante looked really depressed and his normally defiant stance had turned into one of a little boy realizing that he had lost everything. Patting him on the shoulder, I reassured him that his mother was probably a good woman. "I'm sure she was only doing what she had to."

He looked down at me with his big blue eyes and quietly laughed. "Yeah," he whispered. "Whatever."


	2. Bart Simpson Pajamas

**The Moses House, Limbo City, Four in The Morning, Heavy Snow**

"All of the schools are closing, and it really looks like it's all turned into ice," shouted Dante from the living room. "This storm is getting way outta hand."

Brushing the black trindles of my hair behind my ear, I moved my bathmat into place and forced my poor feet onto the cold tile floor of the bathroom. Holding my towel around myself with one hand, I used the other to draw the heavy glass doors of the shower closed. Turning around and back into my massive bedroom, three lamps on my night stand and dressers illuminated the homier, warmer carpetted room that was way too big for just one person. My forest green walls and stained mahogany furniture were scattered around the little sleeping cave, and now that I had a guest in the house I was starting to realize just how incredibly _big _it all really was.

I went to my dresser and threw my towel on the bed. Standing there in the nude, I shuffled through my drawers for my pajamas; a huge t-shirt advertising some 5k that Daddy ran once and a pair of yellow Simpsons pants, with repeating Barts, Lisas, Marges, and Homers floating around on them. For a split second I thought about what Mother would think of me looking like a Walmart vagrant infront of a guest, but when I thought about who the guest was and how stupid tired _I_ was, I concluded that I just really didn't give a shit. Walking around to turn off all my lamps, I finally replied to Dante with an "Oh really? That's great!"

As I walked down the staircase, I ran the towel over my wet hair and looked curiously out the windows in the front hall, slowing down in the middle to get a better look at the suprising amount of snow. Huge white petals fell steadily onto the porch, the street, the trees- and it was hard to tell where my yard ended and the sidewalk began. The street lights were like huge stars in the twilight, snowy darkness outside, and if you had just glanced at it you could have been looking at a very smooth moon. In just an hour it had already snowed atleast 2 or 3 inches, and for this strange occurance I was truely greatful! I smiled with childish delight at the idea of it, a flawless white outlining the limbs of the trees and a free day to do whatever you wanted. Who didn't like snow days?

I turned and skipped down the corridor to the living room and slid in on my socks like Tom Cruise in Risky Business. Dante smiled and said, "I take it you like ice?" I grinned at him and hopped over the couch to join him in weather watching. Bob Barbas on the Raptor News Network was on blabbering about how "_craazyy" _this storm was, and I quickly grabbed the remote from Dante and muted him and his bitchy mouth, surprised he wasn't yacking about "God's Work" and all that BS. "You know _why _I like it, don't you?" I asked coyly, blinking like a maniacal little girl. Before he got the chance to answer I jumped out of my seat, accidentally threw the remote half-way across the room, and shouted in a sing-song voice, "**I don't have to go to work todaaay~!**"

Dante clapped his hands once and laughed at me for acting like an idiot, but I was too tired and too goofy to care. "I kinda figured", he chuckled. "You must really hate that place. Whatever it is." Dante was sitting so deeply in my comfy couch that it was like his body had been split in half lengthwise, with only his face, crossed arms, and legs floating on the surface of the green cushions. His bare feet were propped up on the coffee table, but I didn't mind, I wasn't as strict as mother when it came to things like that. Looking at them I was starting to notice that literally every part of his body, even his feet, had some sort of callus, scab, or scar on it.

Realizing that he was wanting to know what I did for a living and that I should stop spacing out, I quickly blurted out, "Oh, I'm the head librarian at Limbo Public Library. The one about half way up Eagle Furnace. On the right." I went over to the wall where the remote had come rolling to a stop and picked it up, surprised the batteries hadn't sprung out of it or something.

Dante gave me a confused look and his black brows seemed even more perplexed. "I didn't know Limbo City even _had _a public library. Does that make me an idiot?"

I chortled sarcastically and rolled my eyes. "Everyone says that. It's really hard to get people to come in, and they've been trying to shut me down for the past few years." Bending back up off of the floor I glanced over at Mother's small portrait of Jesus that sat on her desk beneath her portrait. I shook my head and thought about the family Bible that was laying on the guest bathroom floor to dry out from the rain. _The only people who do come in always hated to see that thing_ I thought. _How ridiculous is that?_

"And it's on Eagle Furnace? The street close to Lillith's Nightclub?" He asked, bewilderedly.

"Yeah. It's in an older area of the city."

"I feel like I should know what you're talking about, but I honestly have no idea, and I've been down that street a lot." chatted Dante flatly, as if he thought I was making it up. His face was really twisted now. I made my return to the couch and plopped down beside him, my tiny frame not even taking up half as much room on the sofa as Dante.

I sighed. "My great-grandfather built it in the 20's, but it's only until the past ten years or so that the library lost its' popularity. It's so old and run down inside, I mean, the last update was in _1978_, and the only new thing after that was a few books I snuck in and an Apple Computer from 2001 - you know, the ones with the see-through blue colored plastic and a handle? It's pretty pathetic." I folded my legs criss-cross-apple-sauce, my body turned towards Dante. He leaned forward off of the couch and put his elbows on his knees, chin in his hands.

Dante gave me another one of his looks, the one where his right eyebrow shoots up in the most criticizing way he can muster. "Well I'm sorry," he began accusingly, "but aren't you kind of old money? Surely you could spare a couple grand to, you know, spruce up the place?" He flipped his hand around and grabbed the glass of Crystal Light Raspberry Tea I made him before I got in the shower. After taking a sip I'm pretty sure he cringed from how sweet/expired it was...

I smiled at his ignorance on the subject and added, "Do you honestly think I'm too cheap to replace a computer that should probably be on Prozac? Believe me, I've tried, but since Dad left the responsibility of the library to the city in his will, they won't let me use my money in any form or fashion to help the poor thing. It has to be money from the city itself, or else it's considered an 'illegal investment' or whatever bull shit they come up with in the john."

Dante frowned. "Surely your old man knew how sketchy our town government is. Didn't he know that they'd just neglect it like everything else?" Dante took another drink of his tea and set his limited edition Charlie Brown glass back on the table. "All those sons of bitches care about is how much money's going into their own pocket. You know it, I know it."

I crossed my arms and looked at the portrait of mom to the right of us. "I was only thirteen when Daddy and Mother died, and only a few weeks before that my aunt, uncle, and cousins were all killed in a boating accident off of the coast of Maine. There was no one left to give the library or the law firm to, and my name wasn't on the list. I was only three years old when he made that will, and although parents want their children to outlive them, I'm pretty sure that he wasn't exprecting to see that wish come true so early." I slowly bent my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around my legs and pressing my mouth against the skin. "But yeah," I mumbled into my knee, "Daddy was a lawyer. He knew better than to get involved with those creeps."

My devilish friend still had a strange look on his scruffy face, and he had frozen mid-drink like what I just said really surprised him. Suddenly he put down his glass and exclaimed, "Your entire family died within _weeks_ of each other on a yacht off the coast of Maine?"

My eyes shot up to his and I confirmed his suspicions with a single glare. After a few moments without saying anything, Dante let out a quick laugh in disbelief.

"My Dad's brother Sheridan and his wife Katarina drowned with their two sons, my cousins, Benjamin and Arthur. My mother and father died in a car accident not three weeks later. A truck drove into them head on." I replied, unexcitedly. I pushed myself up against the couch cushions until my back was completely straight and my arms draped across my stomach. Dante looked at me with an unbelievable excitement and curiosity, like a private eye who'd just gotten the big lead. It was kind of morbid to see him so blatantly interested.

"Don't you think there's something strange about that Bellatrix?" he shouted breathlessly. "That you have absolutely no family left, and everyone kind of hates you?" I laughed like what he said didn't hurt me, but I made a face of pure disgust. "No, please listen," Dante added quickly, shaking his hands in a traditional 'that's not what I meant'. "I mean, everyone around you seems like they want you out of here- the neighbors, the city, even that guy in the alley. It seems like everyone is after you, Bellatrix, don't you see? They've got your family out of the way, and now it's only you! You're the last Moses in an entire city originally _founded_ by them!" He was standing up now with his hands outstretched towards me.

I sat there for a second, thinking about what he'd just thrown up all over me. Dante walked around the table toward me and picked me up off of the couch. Shaking my shoulders, Dante continued hurriedly, "Can you think of any reason why these people want to hurt you? Don't you think this is more than just coincidence?"

"No!" I yelled back, "Because my family died in a terrible, horrible way, and I _don't _want to talk about it anymore!" I pushed him off of me and shot him a cold gaze. "It just happened, ok? It just happened like that!"

My eyes welled up with tears, and my face contorted into that of a frightened thirteen year old girl with thick black curls that hid her sadness all too well behind a curtain of her mother's hair. I pushed back my wet locks with two shaky hands and covered my face with my forearms. I sat back down and wrapped my arms around myself, trying to block out some of the terrible memories that had resurfaced. I felt Dante standing infront of me, still questioning me with his gaze.

_Why did everything he point out to me make sense?_ I screamed through my head, each echo of it bouncing into another one. I thought about the family Bible upstairs again, and how anyone who had ever saw it always tried to destroy it. _They want every piece of the family to disappear, _I thought, _But why? All we ever did was try to make a difference! _I thought about that monster in the alley way who had tried to rape or kill me, and about all of the other near death experiences I had ever faced. _Why is Dante so right!?_

"Bellatrix," whispered Dante, "What are you thinking about, babe?" He put a hand on my shoulder and turned me around towards him. When he saw how visibly distressed I was, he looked shocked. "Oh God, I'm sorry. Damn, I thought I was really onto something here." Dante walked over to his side and sat back down. He handed me my untouched glass of tea and I drank it gratefully, my throat aggravated from crying. I wiped my face with the sleeves of my pajama shirt and looked back up at Dante.

"No, you're right Dante, you're definitely onto something," I paused, hesitant about crossing this line in my life again. For 10 years no one, including myself, had heard about or talked about these occurances. Finally, I decided to tell someone. He had figured it out so quickly, I knew I had to.

"...And you don't even know about the accidents before and after that." I whispered, wishing that my efforts to forget them had actually worked.

All of his attention was on me now. "What do you mean? There's more?"

"... When I was at my cousin Arthur's birthday party- I was about 6 years old when this happened- some of Arthur's friends from school tried to keep me under the water in the pool and drown me, but my mother stepped in before it was too late."

"_What?"_

"...The boy wasn't even 8 years old, and he and his friends had honestly tried their hardest to kill me! But when Mother pulled them off of me they acted like they had no idea what was going on. Like it was a joke..."

Dante was looking at me like a deer in headlights. He looked like he was about to say something, but I just kept going. I definitely wasn't finished.

"...And when I was at a middle school dance one of the parents tried to run me over in the parking lot. They clipped my arm when Daddy pulled me out of the way, and I was in a cast for a few weeks, but when they saw Daddy they didn't try it again. They just drove off."

"What did your parents think about this?" asked Dante, like a teacher handing you back a failing paper. "Did they have an explanation for it?"

I thought about everything that happened after my "accidents". They happened so frequently, we had a special name for them. But should I tell Dante about what my mother said to do? I looked over at this strange man that I was now calling my friend and eyed him up and down. _Well,_ I said to myself, _he's the one that first said that this was a conspiracy theory. Isn't he supposed to be the crazy one?_

After a long time I said, "Often times my parents would keep me home from school for a few weeks, to a few months, depending on how traumatic it was. The worst time was when a man that I had never seen before walked into church and sat in the pew directly in front of us. The longer he sat there, the more I noticed him twitching and sweating - so much so that he was patting his face with a handkerchief. Suddenly he pulled out a gun and-"

I stopped mid-sentence and closed my eyes, trying not to picture the imagery that went along with what I was about to say. I swallowed roughly and let out a deep breath, feeling my stomach do flops. Opening my eyes and looking down at my glass of tea, I remembered how long it took me to get over it - how long it took me to convince myself that what happened didn't happen to me, but some other poor girl that was at church one day.

Dante, though obviously fascinated, didn't say anything, patiently waiting for me to continue. I just kept looking at the ice in my glass, swirling around half melted now. When I opened my mouth to speak, my voice was shaking on the first few words.

"- He pulled out a gun and stuck it in his mouth, and when he shot himself it got all over my face and my hair and my clothes and- and all over my mother's pretty white coat. And... I told myself not to look at the person in front of me, but to just look at her coat, and how beautiful she looked in it. Because I... kept wanting to scream, but my brain wouldn't let me, and Daddy was dragging me out of the pew... And when we were running out the blood of that man kept getting in my eyes... I kept screaming and ripping the pieces of his skull and his brain out of my hair."

After a few moments, my friend on the couch remained silent, in total shock because of what I had just told him. I removed my emotionless eyes from my drink to show him that it was alright to speak, that I wanted him to ask me questions. That it felt good to talk about what happened with someone who seemed to genuinely care.

"How long did it take you to recover from something like that? How old were you when that happened?" Asked Dante in a whisper. He was quiet, like the questions wouldn't be as heavy if the volume was light.

My response was soft, hushed. "I was nine years old when that happened. I didn't go back to school for five and a half months. I only left the house when my parents forced me, even out in the yard to play. I just wanted to sit in my room and read. Mother tried to get Daddy to move out of the city, but the property here has been in our family for almost 350 years- longer than the United States has been a country. Unlike Mother I could understand where he was coming from, because this house was the only home I had ever known, and I felt safe here. I told Mother that I never wanted to leave, so she caved. But it was her who finally made me go out again."

Dante shook his head. "What convinced you to leave the house? What did she do?"

An image of my mother teaching me popped into my head, and I felt sure that if I told Dante the truth that somehow he would believe me, and that he wouldn't judge me on it. I looked him in the eye and stuck out my hand. "If I tell you, do you promise not to tell anybody? I know it sounds childish, but I want you to shake on it. I don't want the reputation of being a psychopath on top of all the crap I already take."

After shaking my hand Dante didn't let go, but held on to it tightly. His bright blue eyes were locked on to mine in a show of fierce determination to learn. To be honest, I was flattered by this! Someone was finally _listening to me_, and it looked like what I was saying was really affecting him in some way. I wondered if the stories about my childhood were reminding this strange carnival-fighter of his own, and if so, was his just as psychologically damaging? Dante seemed so eager to learn about me, and I was just as equally interested in him.

Now that I was thinking about it, Dante was an extremely hard person to read, his eyes never revealing anything about him other than the fact that they were _extremely _blue. I had never seen a human with eyes so naturally bright, or a demon with any shade of blue- only green or orange. Examining Dante, one would think that there wasn't anything special about him physically; he appeared to be a normal, though handsome, human man. His characteristics are good if you don't take the womanizing into consideration- I mean, he stabbed a demon in the back for me. Did Dante know that it was a demon like I did? Or did he only see a maniac in a brown hoodie trying to rape a woman in the back alley? Either way, Dante seemed fascinated by the deaths of my family and the city's baffling hatred of me, which does pose an interesting question once you think about it. Their deaths were extremely odd, and the incidents afterwards were even stranger. This said, I'm starting to wonder if Dante has any ties to the paranormal like I do.

"Bellatrix, I completely understand. I do," swore Dante, letting go of my hand. "And I promise not to tell a soul if you're about to say what I think you are."

My big brown eyes flashed up at him and I quickly asked him, "What do you think I'm about to say? Are we on the same page here?"

Dante laughed. "I think we are sweetheart! Damn, I wanna know if I'm right so bad! Just tell me! I swear, cross my heart till I die or whatever that I will _not _tell a soul!" I could tell that he was trying to destract me from the sadness, and for that I was glad.

When Dante laughs, his eyes close all the way shut, as tight as they'll go. He makes it look like it's the funniest thing in the world, and that he can't handle how funny it is. _That's so cute,_ I thought, smiling uncontrollably. "Ok," I said, feeling a little bit better. Dante leaned in closer and rested his elbows on his knees, chin in his hands.

"Oh God, this is so exciting. If you say what I think you're about to say I'm ordering a pizza to celebrate, ok?" Dante was incredibly excited now, and even if it was over something kind of morbid, I was happy to see him this way.

"Hell yeah dude! That's totally fine with me!" I enthusiastically reply, wiping away the last few tears. "Can we get it from Don Ed's? They have 24/7 pizza and their crust is like, blessed with the tears of Dionysus or something. Like, I don't even know."

Dante shot out a laugh and screamed, "Blessed with the tears of _Dionysus?_ That's definitely the first time I've heard 'dude' and 'Dionysus' used together in a sentence, I'm pretty sure." We both chuckled, seeing as how we were about to order pizza at 5 o'clock in the morning after an evening of almost-rape and psychologically-fueled tears. "That's the best thing I've ever heard. And I know how to get you excited now- just talk about pizza!"

"Well, hold on now," I shouted, throwing my hands up. "Let's just see if we're both thinking the same thing, ok?"

"Ok, babe, hurry up."

I let out a sigh and closed my eyes dramatically. I'd never told anyone this before, and now was definitely the time. I was probably about to become genuinely close to someone, someone who would now help me share the burden of my exoticly powerful secret. I decided that I was ready and I turned my face towards Dante and flashed open my eyes. Grinning, I beamed, "What my mother did was teach me how to use protective circles and healing spells. My mother was an angel."

...Dante's face dropped. _Oh no,_ I thought, _I've said the wrong thing! He doesn't believe me!_ Immediately I felt my cheeks redden with an increasing embarrassment with every passing second of silence from Dante. He wasn't saying anything- have I scared him away? I had to break the silence before my face caught fire.

"... Well..." I whispered, voice shaking. This seemed to stir Dante somewhat. "...Are we still getting pizza?"

Dante shifted his position on the couch and I thought I saw just a hint of pink in his cheeks, but he quickly took a sip of tea and I couldn't get a good look. "I'm sorry," he stuttered. "I don't know what to say. ...I've never been in the presence of Nephilim before. I feel like I should bow or something, or ask your forgiveness. I don't know."

I gave him a sweet and surprised look. He was acting so chivalrous, yet I was taken aback by what he said. Dante was acting like I was royalty or something, and I didn't quite know how I felt about that. I placed a hand on his and quickly asked, "Dante, now that I've told you this, may we still be friends?"

Dante's gaze returned to settle on mine, and both of our faces were red now. "Of course Bellatrix. I wouldn't want to walk out of here without knowing that I can come back. Now that I know this, I feel like you should know something about little old me, ok?" He crossed his arms and looked down at the coffee table.

"You know why I live down at the Fair Ground? Why I live in a hunk a shit trailer and bring home a girl or two every other night?" The mood had shifted to something a little bit darker. I blushed at the truth of his situation, but I was very much intrigued. Suddenly Dante pulled out two guns from his inner coat pockets. "Why I carry these beauties around with me?"

Thrown off by the sudden appearance of two giant black and silver handguns, I stumbled with my reply. "Tell me why." My eyes were glued to his, and he set his guns on the table to sling off his coat onto a nearby love seat. His jaw clenched and his dark brows turned down into a face of concentration. Now wearing only a wifebeater, black jeans, and a giant red crystal necklace that I was somehow just now noticing for the first time as he pulled it out from under his shirt, I counted dozens of tiny scars all over his arms and back. Before Dante turned around I thought I saw a large tattoo of something on his back, but I wasn't sure.

"I hunt demons for a living. The pay is shit, but it's fun as hell, believe it." Spouted Dante unceremoniously. Holding the necklace out from his neck he added, "See this? This is from the family I never met, my mom or my dad either one, don't know. But this thing here, I think is what makes my job so much easier."

The jewel shown a magnificent red, a bloody crimson that cried out for action, violence, and a devilish desire for any kind of immorality. He took it off and held it just above my now outstretched hand. I felt a strange heat on my open palm as the jewel dangled from Dante's rough fingers. The jewel radiated a kind of light that was very miniscule, but all the while intriguing. "Touch it," muttered Dante commandingly. "Feels weird don't it?"

I wrapped my hand around the jewel to get a better feel, only to realize that it was extremely painful to touch. I jerked my hand free of the damned thing and shook it around like you do when you've just burned yourself. The pain was seering, like I'd just been branded by the Devil himself. Dante quickly set down the necklace to get a hold of my hands. "Oh man, I didn't mean to do that to ya. Did it burn you?"

"It was scalding hot, Dante! How do you keep that on your skin without it burning you?" I screamed in disbelief. Dante spread my hand open to look at the new burn mark on my palm, which was in the exact shape of the jagged stone. Him opening my hand was disgustingly painful, and the feeling of my skin spreading and thinning over this burn made me clench my teeth.

"It's never done that to me before! It's never done that to _anyone _before!"

I pry my hand loose of Dante's and get a good look for myself. I cringe at how much it stings, and usually I'm no crybaby over things like this. It felt like it was burning through all the way to the other side. Quickly I used my energy to heal it, and even that took longer than expected. The white light that shot from my wound was blindingly bright, and a little bit of smoke came out with it. After that was over I stood up and looked down at Dante, who was eyeing me with his usual intensity.

"What? You can heal yourself?" asked Dante breathily, obviously shocked at my abnormality.

Ignoring his question, I shouted, "That's a Demon's stone, Dante! It has to be! Only things as unholy as that can hurt me so badly." I concluded darkly. "How are _you_ not scalded?"

Dante took the stone off of the coffee table and placed it back around his neck. Suddenly he took off his shirt and turned around. I immediately noticed that I was right about seeing a tattoo. A giant winged sword began to glow on his scratched back, and suddenly the sound of flesh rejoining squished through the air. He was healing himself, just like I had.

"I think it's because of this," he pointed. "I've had it ever since I can remember, but that isn't far. I got meningitis when I was about seven years old, and the orphanage I was at told me my fevers wiped my memory. Who knows exactly when I got it."

Dante turned back around to face me, his shirtless upper half suiting him perfectly. I blushed at the sight of this devastatingly suave and handsome devil standing in my living room, eyeing me with a blue intensity I had never seen before in a man. I loved every second of it. But the thought of this bad boy growing up parentless and poor in an orphanage made me sad for him. _He never had a chance,_ I thought.

"You don't remember anything past the age of seven? You have absolutely no memory of your family, or anything before that?" I whispered, baffled by the situation.

"I got nothing." he mumbled back, visibly saddened. I walked over a bit closer to him and placed a hand on his arm, noticing the massive height difference between us. There was at least a foot of difference, and I felt tiny being so close to him. Gazing up at him I grinned and reassured him, "That's ok. It's not your fault that you got sick."

Dante wrapped an arm around me and laughed softly. "Yeah, I guess. It's just... Sometimes I think back on my time in all the orphanages that I lived in, all the demon scum that were running them, and I just wish to God that my old man were there to see what they did to me by putting me there."

I frowned. "You mean, they were alive when they placed you in the care of the orphanage?"

"That's what my original caretaker told me. They died about a year after that somehow, but no one ever bothered to tell me why or how."

"I'm sure that there was a very good reason. Maybe your mother was too ill to take care of you, or there was an abusive household. Maybe the orphanage lied to you, and she died when you were born."

Dante looked down on me and replied, "I've thought about that, and it does sound like something those homes would do."

We both sat back down on the couch, and this time there was no space between us, and our thighs were right next to eachother. We were slightly leaning against each other, and my head was tilted up towards his. "I'm sorry that you had to grow up like that." I whispered.

After a while Dante chuckled to himself. "I'm sorry that you almost got raped today."

We both laughed as I picked up the phone to order pizza. "What do you want on it, Dante? I'm fine with whatever."

He sent me a big smile and said, "Can we get a large with pepperoni and extra cheese? You've gotta stick to the classics when it comes to pizza my friend!"

"You know, all of the conversations we've had so far have all lead to pizza and rape. I think it's a sign."

Dante took one last sip of his tea and laughed through the cup. "What kind of a sign?"

"That this is the start of a beautiful friendship."

_Hello~! Angelica Moses here! Thank you so much for reading this chapter in "Friends in High Places"! Please tell me what you think of it so far by reviewing my work. I'm open to both positive and negative critiques! Please let me know how I'm doing. :D Also, if you have any questions, please ask me!_


	3. The Generous Pizza Goth

**The Moses House, Limbo City, Five Thirty in The Morning, Severe Snow Storm**

By the time the pizza arrived it was 5:30 in the morning, my hair had fully dried, and the last episode of the Golden Girls marathon was coming on. It was one of my favorite episodes, where Sophia finally realizes that her son Phil is a transvestite right before he dies of a heart attack. When the doorbell rang Dante was in the bathroom, and I jolted at my chance to get to the pizza before he did. Even though I had never seen him eat before, I kinda figured that he was the "I-can-eat-a-large-by-myself" sort of guy. I climbed out of the couch and ran a hand through my hair to get it out of my face, but my curls just fell back down without anything holding them there. Barefoot on the cold wooden floor, I hurried to get to the lukewarmness of the welcome mat, like a little kid pretending that the floor was lava. From the hallway I could hear Sophia and Blanche talking in the background: "You call a man gay if the guy can sing the entire score of "Gigi." But, a six foot three, two hundred pound married man with kids, who likes to dress up like Dorothy Lamour, I think you have to go with queer". Opening the door, my laughter was cut short as a massive gust of AXE Chocolate and cheese grease practically knocked me off my feet.

The delivery guy looked like an 18 or 19 year old kid, and his face looked like the pepperoni pizza we ordered. He had obviously flat-ironed and hair sprayed black hair, with a streak of Monster Energy green shooting through his bangs. He looked like a skunk, and his nose was really short but pointy on the end, with the slightest attempt at a mustache resting awkwardly below. I wasn't sure if the kid had eyes or not. His bangs hung over his pimply forehead dramatically, and he was using all of his strength to keep them there. He looked like he was trying to look depressed- or maybe he just didn't want to be delivering pizza at 5 a.m.

Looking out past him and into the street, snow and ice had managed to cover anything and everything - the kid's car even had icicles hanging off of the mirrors. It must have been at least five or six inches deep by now, and in only a few hours that was unheard of for Limbo City. Usually our winters were short and damp, never actually getting cold enough for snow to stick. Even though we lived in the upper north east, it was almost like Limbo was sitting on top of a hot spot.

"Wow, I bet it was really hard getting here. The snow looks pretty deep." I chatted as I handed him the money. The Black Veil Brides wanna-be reached for the cash slowly with hands covered in leather fingerless gloves and said, "Getting up this street was the hardest thing ever." He flipped around and pointed to the road. "My car stalled like, 5 times on the way here, but Dad wanted to get this last pizza out since I got four wheel drive." He sighed after every sentence, like it took a lot of energy to come up with something to say. He counted the money at the speed of a snail and continued to mumble, "All of the town is covered."

"Is any public transit running? Or is everything shut down?" I asked in my best concerned voice.

He handed me back some change and started to unzip the pizza from the green carrying case. "Everything's down, and the snowplows aren't doin' nothing. Power's out too. Buncha trees down and whatever."

I suddenly became more interested in the goth Napoleon Dynamite standing before me and decided to see if he knew anything about downtown. "Is the power out all over the city or just in patches? Do you know if Eagle Furnace downtown is alright?" The cold air was seeping into the house by this point, and my arms were covered in goose bumps. The pizza guy outside looked like he was 200% done with all of this, but I kept pressing him for information on the library. "I have a library downtown- I'd like to know."

"Downtown's been out for like, two hours," he grumbled. "Everything but Golgotha Square is out. You know, where the church is? None of the snow plows or anything's running either 'cause it snowed too fast or whatever."

Crap! The library is without power in below freezing temperatures? I immediately thought about the water pipes in the bathroom- what if they burst and the water goes out towards the nonfiction section? The building is over 50 years old, the chances of that happening are pretty high. The books, bathroom, and floor would be ruined! If anything was damaged and the city found out about it, they would use it as an excuse to try and shut me down again, and not only would I be out of a job, but the family would be disgraced and everything I had worked for would be destroyed- how could I let this happen? If the pipes were to break, everything else in my life would too.

The library is what distracted me from everyday life, my past, and my future. It was something to keep my mind off of how lonely I was, how badly I missed my parents, and the constant feeling I had that they would be disappointed to see me in the shape I was in now. With the library I had a job, work. And not only was that work important to my roots, but it had become important to me as well. If the only thing in my life that created any happiness for me was taken away I would be drifting through life again, just like I did when Daddy and Mother died. I wouldn't have anything to tie me to the ground, and my life would return to the shitter.

After I finished processing the information the pizza guy had told me, I started freaking out, and I took the hot cardboard box out of his hands agonizingly slow. Standing there holding the delicious smelling pizza box, my eyes weren't focusing on the stereotypically jolly Italian chef holding a pizza printed on its' cover, but the heart wrenching idea of losing the biggest thing going on in my life right now. I started running through a game plan in my head; I would get Dante to help dig out my driveway, somehow take one of the cars downtown, and check on the library. Maybe we could eat the pizza on the way or share a piece with Louis when we made it to the library.

...Louis.

"Oh my God!" I said aloud, throttling the pizza and flinging it down against the halltree. "Louis!"

After all this time with Dante I had completely forgotten about poor Louis! It must not even be 5 degrees outside, and all he has is his coat and a single thick blanket. If he's stayed outside this long, hypothermia has surely set in by now, or worse, frostbite on his toes, fingers, or face. If he couldn't find a way to get back into the library, his only other option would have been to go to a shelter, but the closest one is on the other side of town- he never would have made it in time! How could I have forgotten about him for some guy I just met last night? He depends on me, and I let him down. My stomach dropped and tears started to well up in my eyes, but I was so angry at myself I wouldn't let them fall and wiped them away in frustration.

I quickly put on the pair of slip-on Vans I had sitting by the door and put on the heaviest coat I had hanging nearby, an ugly brown one I kept for emergencies. My brain was spinning with the thought of Louis freezing to death out in the cold. How could I have done this to him! I kept thinking to myself. My shaking hands struggled to grab the zipper, but finally I managed to close up my big coat and pull my gloves out of the pockets. I bent over to make sure the laces were tied on my vans, moving my big yellow Simpsons pajama pants out of the way to see them. After flapping over myself in a torrent, I heard Dante in the living room turn the TV off and drop the remote on the coffee table.

My sudden movements must have startled the Pizza guy. "What's wrong?" he asked, his once purposely hidden eyes now just barely visible under his skunk bangs. He looked sassily surprised at me, and his weirdly mammalian face was twisted up between the two emotions. "Don't you want your pizza? I drove all this way for you to eat it!" he suddenly mumbled at me, voice cracking, acting like pizza was still somehow incredibly important in this situation. (But I mean, how can you blame him? Pizza is pretty much mandatory for human happiness and is proof that God loves us).

I smiled at his ignorance and sharply asked him, "Can you drive all the way back? Back down towards Eagle Furnace, if I paid you? None of my cars have four wheel drive, and I desperately need to see if my friend is alright. I need to check on my library."

He looked flabbergasted. "What do you mean? I was barely able to drive up this hill!"

"He's an old homeless man that I've been taking care of. He has to sleep outside. Can you take me to him on Eagle Furnace?" I repeated furiously, my eyes aflame with the determination to get to him before it was too late. The kid was about to stutter something, but was interrupted by Dante's sudden appearance into the hall. He was visibly confused as he picked the pizza box up off of the floor.

Tucking it under his shoulder, he grabbed a hold of my arm, pulled me back and said, "What's goin' on? This kid bothering you?" Dante gave the kid a good look up and down, probably checking to see if those green and black bangs were hiding a demon behind them.

Ignoring his question, I briefed Dante on my situation. "They're without power around the library and Louis's out in the middle of it! It's probably not even in the positive numbers anymore! He could freeze to death if I don't find him and help him!" My eyes were stinging with the threat of tears, and I rubbed them out again. Seeing that I was emotionally unstable for the fiftieth time that night, Dante nodded his head in understanding.

"So what you want is for this kid to give us a ride down there to check on him? Did I hear that right?" asked Dante. I nodded and Dante shot me a lightning fast smile for my efforts before opening the pizza box to dig out a slice. Laughing, Dante mumbled, "Just as long as we can take the pizza with us I'm down for whatever, babe."

I took the hair tie off of my wrist and hoisted up the black curtains of my hair into a more manageable ponytail. As my hands fiddled with making sure all my curls were out of the way, Dante reached for his jacket on the hall tree and quickly punched his arms through the sleeves while swapping hands for the pizza box. Within a few seconds his first piece of pizza had seemingly evaporated into thin air, and I smiled at how I had correctly guessed his eating habits earlier.

Noticing that we looked ready for action, we were suddenly slowed down with a "Hang on, what are we doing right now?" from the Pizza Skunk, still confused. "We can't walk up there right now, look at the snow!" He threw his arm out in the direction of downtown with a scowl on his face.

"Listen, I said I would pay you if you took me downtown, right?" I reiterated loudly.

"I can get you down there, but I don't think I can take you back." replied the skunk hesitantly.

I grabbed my pocket book off of the hall tree and flipped through it, pulling out two one hundred dollar bills. I held up the cash for him and threw the bag on the ground. "That's fine. I can find another way back. I'll give you two hundred bucks if you take me there, ok? I just really need to check on my library and my friend."

The boys tiny and well-hidden eyes widened considerably at the sight of my money, and he immediately agreed. Dramatically flipping his dirty green and black hair, he backed off of the porch and waved for us to follow. Dante took another slice of pizza out of the box as we slammed the door behind us and slowly followed the pizza guy down the now icy and slick front steps of the house. As the two guys waddled down the stairs I took out my keys and locked the front door, the copper doorknob almost too cold to hold onto for very long. Instead of taking the stairs, I went to the ornate metal railing around the front porch and hoisted my way up and over, leaping down into the pile of snow below. I waded over to where the guys were and the yard only to receive two thumbs up from Dante, who was balancing the pizza box with two pieces hanging out of his mouth. I laughed and took the pizza box from him, making sure that I atleast got one slice.

"Ok, so since you know where you need to go you sit shotgun ok?" directed the Pizza Skunk. "This guy'll have to make room in the back." He grumbled to me, lazily pointing a Nissan Xterra idling out in the road. I could hear Dante puff behind me, and I turned to him and smiled.

"Dante," I said clearly, wanting to pause for a second before we got in the car. "Thank you for coming with me." I grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight, quickly letting go to open the side door. Swallowing his last bite of crust, Dante smiled back at me and jerked open his side of the car.

"Anything for you." he said.

Inside of the SUV, the grey seats were stained in all the places where your butt goes, like multiple coffees and Cokes had been spilt there over the years. And it looked like the kid didn't do a very good job cleaning up the mess- everything you touched was sticky, and there was a shitload of Energy drink cans, fast food bags, and for some reason about a half a deck of Yu-gi-Oh! cards on the floor. Poor Dante had it worse though, since about two weeks worth of the kids' laundery was scattered all over the back seats. It was all a bunch of black t-shirts and black jeans, with the occasional pair of beat up Chuck Taylor's incorporated into the mix. The smell was a disgusting blend of pizza, AXE body spray, Monster, and straight-up ass. However, there was an itty-bitty plugin air freshener attached to one of the air vents, but it looked like there were only a few drops of "Cranberry Orange Muffin" left in the shell. All hope for an enjoyable rescue mission was now gone. At least it was warm in here though!

Slinging the door open dramatically, the kid flung the pizza bag back behind him and practically body slammed back into the driver's seat. "I'm not making any promises that we can make it there, but I think the old girl still has a little bit'a kick left in her." I don't know how he could see through his bangs to do it, but he suddenly grabbed the gear shift and slammed the Xterra into reverse. Giving up on the rearview mirror, the kid simply grappled the back of the seat to turn his body around and look out for the rich people's mailboxes and shrubs. Slowly but surely, the tires kicked up enough snow to back us into a driveway, which then set us in the right direction towards the neighborhood's entrance. "Fuck yeah!" shout/slurred the pimply teen driver, who then proceeded to flip the volume knob all the way up.

Suddenly the all to familiar intro to Metallica's Master of Puppets screamed through the speakers, through the doors, and seeped out onto the snow covered street like an intoxicating blood. My body jumped due to the sudden loudness, but a huge smile opened up on my face, and Dante just started laughing as we bounded down the street at an unhealthy speed. "JUST CALL MY NAME 'CAUSE I'LL HEAR YOU SCREAM... MASTER! MASTER!" I began to sing along with James Hetfield and pulled out my best air guitar skills (which are pretty freaking awesome). Both guys in the car immediately started screaming with laughter, and the pizza guy pulled out a can of Monster from his black military coat pocket, which he immediately chugged and smashed against his forehead. Not even fazed, Dante and I both were dying laughing at this kid and this whole situation. Even though we were barreling down an icy road at about 60 miles per hour, I was having too good of a time to notice if we were about to die or not. A combination of Metallica, a random goth pizza delivery guy, and a desperate need to help a homeless friend had helped to stir up a little bit of my old self. For the first time in a long time, I felt incredibly care free.

"I like this kid!" shouted Dante from the back seat. He raised a glove hand and smacked the boy's arm in a masculine sign of acceptance. The kid beamed at us. "You guys are cool! This librarian chick knows every fuckin' word to a Metallica song. That's fuckin' awesome." For the first time in a while the kid turned his attention back to the road and shifted in his seat. I was tempted to remind him that he wasn't wearing a seatbelt, but then I realized that this car didn't have any. Dante was sprawled out in the back now, one foot up on the seat and the other pumping along with the beat of the metal. We were all looking at the road now; we'd finally made it to the middle of town.

Everything was dead and cold, nobody was out, and most if not all of the streetlights had gone out under the snapping weight of the freshly formed ice. The buildings looked like people hadn't been living there for years, as snow and ice made the windows look dusty and untouched. Occasionally you would see the ghostly appearance of a flashlight walking through a store or an upper apartment window, which was the only reminder that a human presence still remained in this part of the city. Ours were the only tire marks, and looking down the street on either side it didn't look like a snowplow was coming any time soon. I suddenly felt aware of how dangerous our situation had become.

The boy's smile dropped, and I could see his eyebrows bunch up under his flat bangs. "This wasn't like this when I was sent out. The power was still on here." he mumbled, kneeling against the steering wheel to get a better look at some of the taller buildings. "It must be getting a lot shittier in the other parts of the city, too."

A hand grabbed my shoulder, and I flipped around to talk to Dante, whose body was now on the edge of his seat. His torso, arms, and head were now practically in line with ours. Placing his elbows on top of the front seats, his arm draped over the front of my body and laid itself against the space between my arm and chest. After running a hand through his hair, Dante asked me, "If this guy isn't outside the library, where would he be? Is this his permanent spot or is there a shelter he goes to sometimes?"

I thought for a second about some of the other places he might have talked about, but I remembered that after every story he told me he always ended it with, "But they don't let me stay there anymore." I frowned and replied, "I really don't know. The past few months he only stays near the library. Lots of shelters have turned him away, or really messed with him. At the library is where he always told me he felt the safest, so he rarely left."

The kid in the driver's seat turned down the music and angled his face towards me, still keeping his eyes on the road. "Ok, I know you keep saying that you work at a library dowtown, but in all honesty I've never even seen it once- and Dad's pizza place is on that street, so it's not like I've never been there before." He gave me a concerned look, like I was losing my mind, but I shook him off.

"I promise you, it's down there. My family, the Moses's, were the ones who started it back in the 30's." I semi-shouted in frustration. Both of these guys had no idea what I was talking about, had no idea of its' existence. But then again, let's back up and have a better look at who we're talking to. Dante was raised as a "problem child" in multiple orphanages and foster homes, and the pizza guy just crushed a coke can against his forehead. Dante probably doesn't even know that he's named after the guy who wrote _Inferno, _and Pizza Goth here has probably never looked past the three pages of Huck Finn he read Junior year. Thinking this over in my mind, I started to feel pretty sorry for them.

Startlingly, Dante's head flipped to the drivers side of the car, and then on to the back. His body thrashed around until he was hanging over the tunk, his nose in the air like a hound on a blood trail. Looking intently at something down the street, Dante shouted, "Did any of you see that?"

"See what, Dante?" I asked nervously, looking out into the darkness at the poorly illuminated and dangerously snow covered streets. If Dante saw something in a world that I originally thought was creepily devoid of all life, I certainly didn't want to be wrong. An image from the movie _I Am Legend_ appeared in my mind, the part where his dog goes in to a warehouse full of zombies that the audience knows are there, but can't see. My eyes grew worried and dark, and I refused to look at Dante until this chill up my spine had vanished.

Dante remained silent for a few seconds, until finally he turned back around to face the road. "I don't want to creep anybody out, but I think I saw somebody out there." His serious eyes shifted from the floormats to my blackish-brown ones, and he gave me a look that I definitely took into consideration. He was telling me to be careful, and I knew he wasn't joking around. "We're getting close to Eagle Furnace, but try not to slow down. As soon as we get to this library I want you to go home, ok kid? This storm's getting really bad."

The pizza guy looked at me and mumbled, "Ok." After a few seconds of silence he returned with, "What's going on? I feel like the storm isn't what you're really afraid of."

Dante and I both eyed each other carefully, and I could tell he was thinking about something terrible. Something that only the devil could bring to the table. I didn't want this kid to be scared, but I agreed with Dante in the idea that he was better off getting out of here while he still could. If demons really were a part of the equation, I didn't want the pizza guy to end up the quotient. Feeling incredibly nervous now, I got to thinking about Louis and his vulnerability to the demon if he had left my protection circle. If there really was something out in the storm, what was to stop it from preying on someone who was too easy a target? And if it was as strong as the thing from earlier tonight, what was keeping it from pulling over the car right now? My stomach dropped, and I turned my face back around to get a better look at the boy. He looked scared. With the music gone and the intoxicating blood drained from the car, he had nothing to distract himself from his disturbingly leery and mysterious company.

"There's no trouble, but if you don't hurry there definitely will be, kid. You just need to get home as soon as possible. There's something out here who doesn't take too kindly to people like us." Dante pointed towards the outside and laid back against his seat.

In the distance I could see the library, barely illuminated by the headlights of the car. Even though we were still far away from the building, I practically pressed my face against the windshield looking for the man who sat on the bench outside. Without any street lights, it was nearly impossible to make anything out but the roof and the car lights reflecting on the windows. "Here, at the end of this street, this is the library." I shouted into the eerie quiet of the interior. The boy leaned closer against the steering wheel to get a better look, but still seemed confused.

"At the end of the street? What do you mean? Up on that little hill?" Pointed the boy, a single ungloved finger raised and smushed against the glass in the general direction of the library. I shook my head, "Mm-hm, right there." I grabbed the door handle anxiously and turned my body around in order to get a better head start. However, it looked like I was the only one doing so. Everyone else just seemed to be extremely and absurdly puzzled. Ignoring them, I kept a look out for Louis, but from this angle it was hard to tell if the bench was occupied or not; the snow was making everything blend in with everything else. The clear cut lines of the streets, sidewalks, and steps were all smeared out and erased with the white of the snow, which was so high now, some stores had snowbanks as tall as a fire hydrant in front of their doors. Growing impatient for the car to stop I thanked the boy for the ride and handed him the money, all 200 of it. For a 10 minute drive that's a pretty big tip, I thought to myself.

Instead of desperately grabbing for the money like any other teenage boy would do, this one had both hands on the steering wheel, looking around everywhere but in the direction of the library. "Ma'am, I think this is the wrong street." he mumbled into the ever present awkwardness. I looked at him like he was the biggest idiot in the world and threw a hand out in the direction of the giant sign erected in front that read "LIMBO CITY PUBLIC LIBRARY".

"Damn it, what's so hard about this? It's right there! Are you blind or something?" I crossed my arms with my fistfull of money and laughed at the stupidity of it all. "There's a huge sign right there! The building! That is literally. right. there?" I tapped my finger on the windshield in its direction and began unwrinkling the hundred dollar bills.

Dante hoisted himself up to get a better view. "What the fuck are you talking about? All of these houses are abandoned."

I flipped around in a rage and glared at Dante with the force of my entire being, my fists stretching out the green bills. "These aren't houses! These are city government office buildings!"

"Uh, no, they're not. It's just a bunch of run down shit." replied Dante bluntly. "Come on, we need to let this kid go, so take us to where the library really is."

The boy joined in with a muffled yeah, and later added in, "I think maybe you misread the street name." The kid was getting freaked out, and was suddenly realizing that giving two random pizza-loving strangers a ride might not have been worth $200.

I threw the money at the kid and immediately bailed out of the crappy hauler. I couldn't take the idiots in there any longer. I flipped my legs over the side and slid off of his nasty grey seats, my coat bunching up at the bottom from being smashed up by the cushion. When my feet slid into the snow and onto the road, I adjusted the fit of my jacket and pulled it down from around my neck and ears. Immediately my face felt like it was going to fall off from the cold and intense wind, and I instantly regretted the decision of not taking my hat or a scarf. I looked down the street for a brief second, but I couldn't see anything more than 100 ft away. The street looked like it could be endless, and that the other end hadn't been reached in years. The snowstorm was making everything look grey, like the Titanic after being underwater for a hundred years but with snow. I twirled back around and looked at the pizza kid, whose once hidden eyes were now wide open in unsure alarm.

"Thanks, kid." I shouted into the wind. "Now go home! Get out of here!"

Slamming the door to the XTerra, I started jogging toward the library and into the wind, snow brushing over my cheeks and eyelashes. Although I was hurrying and trying the best that I could, I was being careful of the snow and ice below. Vans weren't the right shoes for an Antarctic rescue mission, but they were what I had close by when I first panicked. Behind me I heard the whipping of Dante's coat in the fierce wind as he closed the door, but before that he shouted something to the pizza guy involving the words "home" and "couldn't"- the rest of it was too covered up by the wind to be heard. After Dante closed his door, it took a while for the boy to drive off, like he was watching me to make sure that I was alright. When I heard the snow crunch under the weight of his moving tires, I genuinely hoped that he was heading home. What he did for us was nice; the kid deserved to be home safe.

"Where are we going, Bellatrix?" Dante was still a good distance behind me, although he looked to be Tigger jumping one leg at a time through the knee-high snow drifts with ease. "I hope you know what you're doing! It's fucking freezing out here."

I didn't stop to answer him, instead I pulled out my pink key ring and shifted through the metal catalogue until I finally found the little gold one for the front and back doors. "I have no idea why you're so incredibly blind, but once we get inside and see the 2,723 books I have in my roster, I think you might find it in your heart to believe me."

Looking down at the snow covered road I noticed the slight incline of where the drift went up when the sidewalk did, and I decided to dig my now soaking wet checkerboard tennis shoe into the drift to make sure that my observations were correct. Finding the cement, I hoisted myself up the little bit onto the sidewalk and made my way towards the stairs. I could see the metal pipe railing of the stairs, but the stairs themselves were hidden. As I climbed them, holding onto the metal railings to make sure that I didn't bust my butt on the ice, the snow had pushed and leaked through my Simpsons pajama bottoms, making my legs shake with cold induced pain. Behind me I heard Dante stop walking, and I could tell that he was having second thoughts about following me.

"How did you get keys to this house? Did you buy it or something?" he hollered. Jerking back around, I examined the look on his face and he looked completely honest. Getting angry about how silly this all seemed and how obvious the existence of the library was now that I was marching up its' front steps, I stopped my assault on the stairs and gazed down at him critically.

When our eyes met, Dante immediately shook his head and threw up his hands like he was through with the whole thing. "Listen, whatever joke you're trying to pull, I really don't think it's funny."

My patience had reached its high water mark, and my mouth exploded with a very angry, "I'm not joking." He jumped back a bit. "You're the one who's messing around. Are you making fun of my job or something, because I'll have you know that I take it very seriously." I put my hands on my hips for a moment and shook my head rather furiously. Dante could tell that I had had it.

"Listen sweetheart, I don't have to be here, so waste your own damn time playing librarian." Dante flipped his hand up in the air and began a casual stroll down the street, obviously over my antics.

I wasn't having this. I was so close to getting him inside the door, but I had somehow been unable to show him the incredibly apparent library that was standing in front of him. Why couldn't he see it? I've been coming to work here everyday for 2 years, surely I wasn't the one hallucinating. The building in front of me was as plain as day, and very obviously an open, public place. Not some kind of abandoned house like Dante and the pizza boy were talking about. I ran down the stairs to catch up to him- If I was crazy I wanted to know.

"Dante," I called, grabbing his hand to stop him. "Dante please listen to me! Please come inside. I need your help." When I grabbed his hand he didn't reject it, instead he pulled on me gently, silently asking me to come closer. He was looking down on me with a scowl, and I couldn't help but wilt under his scrutinizing gaze. I let go and wrapped my arms around myself, looking down at the sidewalk now covered in knee deep snow.

All of a sudden Dante's face softened. "I don't know what it is, but I can't stop thinking and hoping that you're right." I lifted my head and started to feel a little better, smiling at him briefly.

"Come on," I said, my breath a visible cloud. "We need to hurry and find this guy." I waved for him to follow, and we waded back to the stairs.

The metal pipe railing had ice cycles hanging off of it, and it hurt your hands to touch it it was so cold. From about the middle step my eyes shot up to the concrete slab and looked for any movements or signs of Louis. I hiked up the stairs by twos, and quickly jumped to the head of the slab. Now that I was at the top I waded towards the wooden bench where Louis always slept. To my despair I didn't find him there, but deep in my heart I knew that Louis was smarter than to stay out here in the cold. His body had been replaced by a healthy helping of snow, making the bench look more like a cushioned loveseat. Hopefully he was still in the building though, and I grabbed the predestined key from the keyring and hastily moved toward the halfway frozen door, which required some shaking to loosen its lock and bolt.

Dante was behind me, still looking hesitant, but closer to me this time. Ready to see how surprised he would look when he saw the inside, I opened the door leaving a wide path for him to enter. There was still a little bit of warmth within, but I'm sure that it was quickly drained when the door was opened. When I felt the heat on my skin and the familiar scent of the library all around my face my eyes jutted to Dante's. He walked into the library slowly and carefully, like what he was seeing was incredible or unbelievable. Sneaking behind him, I opened the door to the janitor's closet and picked up the flashlight. As I turned it on, the cheap wooden tables, chairs, and bookcases became illuminated in a yellow light.


	4. My Frozen Aunt Katy

**Limbo City Public Library, Limbo City, Six Thirty in The Morning, Severe Snow Storm**

"_What_?" whispered Dante, rubbing his eyes like he was hallucinating. Handing him another flashlight, he snatched it and turned towards the outside. Dante ran out the door and splashed the exterior of the library with some Double A powered light, and he acted like it was the greatest thing he had ever seen. As he marveled at my poorly painted orange brick exterior, I rolled my eyes at his stupid games and walked over into the lobby.

"Louis!" I shouted, hopefully loud enough for the poor old man to hear me. "Louis, are you here? I'm going to take you back home with me and out of this cold! Louis?" I yelled for him loud and clear, but I didn't get a response. Well, if I did I couldn't hear it for Dante keeping the door wide-damn-open in this wind! Looking into the darkness of the library, I came to realize that my free keychain flashlight from 7-eleven's grand opening wasn't exactly the brightest thing in the world. I decided to go back to my desk and look for a candle or something before I accidentally tripped over Louis in the dark. Wandering behind the counter and around the corner, I remembered the lighter I'd bought for the "Block Party BBQ" that I had tried to host my first year on the job. Based on past tales, I'll just let you assume how well it went.

I sat outside with my grill underneath a big tent with tables, chairs, and everything. The radio was going, but that was pretty much the only sound coming from my friendly neighborhood party. The only people who showed up for a free cheeseburger were Andy, the moody cashier of the 7-eleven down the street, who had either gotten tired of eating corn dog rollers or was saving his money for a dime bag, and Louis, a hungry homeless guy who couldn't care less if it was a cheeseburger or a taquito. Andy kept trying to tell me about the headlights on his car, and how they kept turning off by themselves, which led him to believe that some guy he knew who had died was haunting him or something for dating his girlfriend or whatever. After a few minutes, the owner of the 7-eleven yelled at him to come back from across the street, and he finally left. About 2 hours later with no other visitors in between, Louis walked up the stairs, and I've been looking after him ever since.

Inside the bottom drawer of my desk was a big Christmas candle that I had never lit, and I pulled it out of its dusty plastic box and onto the counter. Right beside it laid my BBQ lighter, and I quickly grabbed it. The lighter in my hand squeaked as I let go of the black plastic trigger, and a small but welcoming flame began inside the round, pine scented Yankee Candle. A family friend of Daddy's had given this candle to me at the funeral, as if the scent of "Holiday Garland Medley" would somehow help me forget the fact that my entire family had just died. Even though I knew she meant well, at the time it was all I could do not to throw it against the wall. From what I can recall about the woman who gave it to me, she was a little bit odd anyway; a mousey woman who reminded me of a younger Betty White. I'm sure that she would be happy to know that I actually _did_ find a use for it, even if it did take me 10 years.

After focusing for a while on finding a secondary light source, my attention fell once again onto Dante, who for some reason kept running in and out of the building like a chicken with its head cut off. To be honest with you, it was getting pretty annoying, and the wind that followed him in and out was blowing all the papers around on my desk, not to mention freezing me to death. It was even affecting the flame in the candle, and I thought for sure that it would go out. After a few seconds the abnormally huge gust of wind fell quiet, and the proud little bit of fire remained in the jar.

"Dante! Stop that!" I scolded, waving for him to come in out of the doorway. "What are you doing?"

He skulked up to the reception desk and grabbed me by the arm. "I think I know why I was blind to the library." he said, pulling me forwards. Practically having to climb over the reception area to catch up with him, I jogged over to the front door and let him outside first. As if he thought that I would just turn back around, he shouted, "Check this out." The frigid air on my face blasted through my thin pants, and I began to shiver again. The path we had trudged through the snow had widened with all of Dante's moving around, and I stalked through his new trail like a hunter does their prey; careful not to slip and fall. I found him on the corner of the library, with what looked like a huge piled up tarp.

"What the _what_?" I asked, pointing to it. Dante laughed and started picking up a corner of it. The fabric almost looked like something from a school play- like a backdrop. "I think this thing was made by a demon. Or at least some kind of witch." answered Dante in an experienced tone. He spread out the corner of the huge piece of fabric and held it out in front of him. "The reason I kept seeing an old abandoned house instead of your library is because of this thing. See?" On the tarp was what looked like some poorly painted shingles- the top of a roof. Dante fiddled around with the fabric some more until he found a window, which had been smeared to look smashed.

I approached him and felt the fabric for myself. It had the consistency of paint, but it almost felt... wet? "The paint's still wet!" I declared, rubbing my fingers together. "Oh, Dante, look at your hands!" My eyes were stuck on his fingers, which in the light of my flashlight were covered in bright red paint. Dante dropped the corner of the tarp and examined them for himself, an intensely puzzled look on his face.

"Red paint? The shingles were black and grey!" he croaked in eerie confusion. We both looked at the fabric just in time to see a disgusting, steaming puddle of burgundy melting through the snow. The red spread, the darker, blood-colored clots disintegrating into the seemingly endless lake of the hot liquid. Dante ran for me and pulled me out just as it reached the bottoms of my vans, where I could feel the grossly invasive heat of the mess in the very tips of my toes. Dante picked me up like a football and trudged quickly through the snow path and to the other side of the front lawn. From here we got a good look of the stuff, and a good whiff of a less than irksome stench that radiated from it soon after.

"Holy shit!" I exploded unceremoniously. "What is that, Dante? What happened to the tarp thing?"

The red puddle was starting to evaporate now, and the nasty steam was a terrible purple color that was so unnatural it made me want to gag. It was starting to heat up as it began to sizzle and scream against the icy cold ground. Suddenly the red liquid on mine and Dante's fingers began to flow back into the ground, and we were free of every last drop and stain from our skin. Before we knew it, the only thing left of the disgusting mess was the smallest pile of blackened-red sludge, which was surrounded by a large circle of resurfaced grass from where it had melted all of the snow. We ran back over to it and watched the shadow shrink and shrink back into the ground, seeping through to hell.

When it looked like it couldn't have gotten any smaller, it seemed to have gotten so hot that it hardened. A sheen covered the new little jet black jewel, and a final puff of smoke squeaked out of its perfectly rectangular form. Dante quickly bent over to pick it up and turn it over in his hands. I held up my flashlight and bathed the shadowed diamond in the light. We looked at each other in disbelief, handing the stone back and forth until it ended up in my hands. "It's blacker than black." I whispered, caught up in its tiny grandeur. "Do you know what this is? Do you know anything about it at all?"

"Not really," mumbled Dante looking down above me. "I just know that really powerful demons can use human blood to create things, but usually it's their weapons. I've never seen a demon try to cover something up using blood spells."

I looked at him wide-eyed in total disbelief. "You mean that huge wave was actually made up of human blood?" I pointed to the still steaming spot in the grass. Dante looked at me with a bit of sadness in his eyes and nodded. My breathing trembled and a shiver shot down my spine. It felt like my stomach wasn't even there anymore as my mind raced with horrible ideas on where they had reaped their clay.

"When a person dies whose soul is sent to Hell, a demon can use their blood and their flesh for the Devil's bidding." told Dante quietly. "This means that every demon that you have come across in this realm, the living world, were once living human beings. If the demon inside of them were to leave those bodies they would fall down dead and lifeless. But after a while of a demon possessing a human's body, they begin to resemble the demons themselves, like the one in the alley way with you last night." He looked at me for a second, but then back at the stone. "Because human bodies are a powerless form, demons use the body's blood to aid them while in this plain. The body is already dead- it doesn't need it to live anymore. _This _demon though, used up the blood of multiple others to create this huge covering." he paused for a second. "It must be one of the higher ups in the city government who did this. That I know of, city government, Kyle Ryder Trading in Silver Sacks Tower, and that fuckin' dick Bob Barbas are the elite demons in this town. Only one of _them_ would have been powerful enough to do this and get away with it."

I blinked at the huge amount of information I had just been given and crossed my arms in contemplation. "Get away with it? You mean multiple demons, their own kind, were used to make this stone?" I wrapped my fingers around it all the tighter, surprised that it wasn't burning me like Dante's stone did.

Dante nodded and watched me put the blackness into my coat pocket. He knew what I was doing; saving it for later. "Yeah. There has to be at least six or seven in there." He zipped up his coat and stuffed his gloved hands in between his crossed arms. "Who knows, Bellatrix. We might be able to use that to make something of our own if we needed it."

I got to thinking about the tarp covering up the library, and how long it had been there. While it did work in stopping people from visiting, it didn't stop _everybody._ I mean, we had a few regulars. At least 5 or 6 people a day. What about them? Could they see through the disguise? And then there were the total strangers that would show up for the Bible. Now I know for certain that they were demons, if no normal person could find my library in the first place...

"Dante, how come Louis and most of my patrons couldn't see the tarp? Why couldn't I see it until it fell apart in front of me?" I asked.

He gave me a look and examined me from head to toe. "Isn't it obvious?" he questioned sweetly. "It's because of your goodness."

"My goodness?" I repeated quietly.

"Yeah. Bellatrix, even though you've taken so much shit, your heart's still pure and innocent. You go to church?"

"Yes. To Redeemer Lutheran just up the street from my house." I provided in an inviting tone.

Dante smiled brightly. "That's it right there. You still worship God. And, honestly, I have no idea how you do it." he chuckled in disbelief.

I gave him a questioning look. "What do you mean? He is my creator, and everything in my life has happened because of him."

"Exactly. All of this crap-" he began counting on his fingers, "losing your parents, your family, the near-death experiences-"

I interrupted him before he could go any farther. "But you're forgetting Dante, how much I still have to be thankful for!" Everything about him slammed to a halt, as if what I had just said was truly unbelievable. He put his arms down, and his face relaxed, and I knew that I needed to continue. "I am educated, I am wealthy, I have a _home._ Yes, I lost my parents. Yes, I lost my family. But at least I got to experience their love and that relationship while it lasted. Yes, I nearly died several times, but I _didn't_! Those times made me strong and aware. Out of those times came my powers, which Mother might not have ever taught me otherwise. Without those protection spells who knows how Louis would have survived outside on this bench all these years. God has a plan for everyone, Dante. You just have to go along with it. It's these experiences that make you the person that you are, good or bad. And for this uniqueness we must give thanks."

After my little religious rant, Dante remained emotionless, unsure of what to think. I didn't care what this summed me up to be in his eyes, but I hoped that what I had said affected him in some way. Eventually, he shook his head and grinned, and I knew that his idea of me had not changed. I returned my thoughts back to the black crystal I was twirling around in my coat pocket. I pulled it out again and held it up to him.

"Maybe we could shove this right up the guy's ass who tried to hide my library from the city. He tried to discourage me and run me out of business, but there's no way in hell I'm backing down now. Not when I'm just starting to figure out what's causing this to happen to me." I flipped around towards Dante and formed a little fist. His smile widened at my intensity and mine did too; I had found another purpose in my life, and for the first time in years I had a person beside me who truly understood what I was going through. Out of my joy at newfound determination, I wrapped my arms around Dante and gave him a much deserved hug. "Thank you, Dante! I never would have found this without you."

He picked me up and twirled me around, laughing. "You're so cheesy, and so welcome at the same time." Instead of putting me down he flung me over his shoulder and began walking back towards the library's front door. "You know, this place doesn't look that half bad. Maybe a little paint, a few plants. It'd be a pretty decent spot."

I laughed from behind his head. "You want a library card? I can sign you up right now for free!"

Before setting me down back inside the lobby, Dante gave me a nice slap on the backside and a chuckle. "Come on, girly. Let's see if Louis's somewhere around." He took his flashlight out of his back pocket and turned it on again, pointing it down the first and second line of shelves. "By the way, you have a great ass for a librarian. Especially when you're flattening it out on those church pews every Sunday."

I laughed a little bit too excitedly and blushed at his remark, but I didn't turn around to show him - he couldn't see how pathetically happy I was to know that I had an acceptable butt. Instead I grabbed the candle and moved it to a center table full of books on display. With the orange glow now resting in the middle of everything, I grabbed my keychain light and motioned for Dante to follow me. "Bring that flashlight over here. Louis can't hear thunder anymore, and I'd rather see him before I stepped on him taking a nap or something. Here, let's just trade. I know exactly where he'd be, but it just so happens to be surrounded in foot murdering Legos."

Dante traded the long metal flashlight for the 7-eleven cheapy, and I quickly directed us towards the children's section of the library. Now that I thought about it, I had no idea how creepy this place is with all the lights off (and how much I needed to dust). It looked exactly like how I described it to people: incredibly decrepit, broken, and underused. As Dante and I walked past the public computers, I called out to Louis once more. "Louis? Louis, are you there?"

Nothing. Dante behind me commented, "This guy must be straight up deaf."

I laughed through my nose and assured him that he really was. "He's a Vietnam War vet. He was in the battle of Khe Sanh, constantly firing a M67 Anti-tank rifle right beside his head for 5 months straight."

"That'll do it for you," admitted Dante.

When we reached the bookcases at the edge of the children's section, I immediately shined my light through the mess of toys and clutter over to the bean bags. They were still stacked in his pile for bedding, but from a distance I couldn't tell if he was lying there. I meandered through the trainset, the spilled building blocks, and a Clifford book which I promptly put back on the shelf. Shaking my head at the mess, I made it to the edge of the bean bags.

"Louis! Wake up and let me take you home," I cooed, bending down to grab his hand. Before I could though, Dante pulled me up and back away from him.

"Bellatrix, there's something wrong." he shouted. "Look!"

Dante shown his light over the makeshift bed, and underneath Louis' big puffy coat were long, red lines of blood. I screamed and ran to him, finding his shoulder and flipping him over to face me. I held my flashlight shakily over my head to get a better look at Louis, and I definitely didn't like what I saw. He had been beaten- his eyes red and swollen shut, and his skin spotted in massive purple, green and blue bruises. His nose was visibly broken and so smashed that the cartilage had slightly pierced its way through the skin. His mouth and chin were covered in blood and bile, as if he had thrown it up.

"Louis!" I shouted, shaking him for a response. After a second I stopped myself and held a finger to his wrist, checking for a pulse. My hands were sweaty and trembling, and my eyes were too full of tears to see how badly injured the rest of his body was. "_Oh God_!"

Before I knew it Dante had picked me off of him again and pulled me off to the side, setting me down against the wall. At first I fought him to get back to Louis's body, but he overpowered me and held me tightly against him. With my face against his chest my cheek accidently touched his necklace and scalded me badly. I cried out and moved through his enveloping arms to get off of the boiling hot stone. Grabbing my face I fell backwards onto the carpet and let out a blood-curling scream. It was spreading into my eyes!

"Fuck!" Dante cried as he quickly peeled off his necklace and stuffed it into his pocket. "Bellatrix I'm so sorry!" He snatched me up off of the blood-soaked carpeting to get a look at my bubbling skin. I felt like the heat was going to go straight through me, and I sat there smoldering in complete agony.

"Bellatrix, you gotta heal yourself. Come on, you gotta heal yourself." shouted Dante, holding on to me for dear life. I felt my tears evaporating instantly as they touched the stone-shaped fire on my cheek and eye, and I knew that I needed to focus on my spell and fast. Even though I was in so much pain that I couldn't stop screaming, a combination of the loss of my friend and the wound, I retreated inwardly to build up enough stamina for a purification circle. I covered my face with my furiously shaking hands and tried to bring the white energy outward. I felt the fluid in my eyes start to boil before I was finally able to call on my strength. A breathtakingly bright light erupted from my wound as it sizzled to a halt. After a few seconds I could feel the skin rejoining and the vision in my eye returned to me. When everything was back to normal I was drenched in sweat and totally exhausted from the pain. My arms dropped to the ground as my body trembled in the arms of Dante, unable to move.

My breathing was shaky and deep from my mouth as my lungs begged for more air. The hair around my forehead was stuck to my skin from the sweat, and I could feel the droplets swirl around my eyes and down the sides of my face. My heart was pounding in my chest, and the muscle spasms wouldn't stop. My eyes drifted to Dante's whose blue ones were focused on me in an intense sign of worry.

"Holy shit! I am so sorry!" repeated Dante, angry with himself for forgetting about the necklace. He let out a sigh of relief and held me against him again, the stone now safely in his pocket. My hard breaths ricocheted off of his chest, and I could feel how quick his heart was beating with mine. "I thought I lost you there for a second."

Weakly I was able to wrap my arm around his neck, and he picked me up off of the ground and into his arms. I looked at him straight in the eye and frowned slightly. In the pit of my stomach there remained a part of me that still had hope for Louis, and I needed to see if my foolish sense of hope and faith was right. "Dante," I muttered breathily. "Is Louis still alive?"

Dante gave me a sorrowful look, hesitant to break my heart. "No, Bellatrix." he whispered. "Louis is dead. I'm sorry, but we got here too late."

Immediately my face changed into one of sheer devastation and huge hot tears rolled down my face in waves. My eyes were stinging, and my mouth opened into an empty scream for him. I grabbed a hold of Dante's shirt and twisted it up in my hand, as if he could keep me grounded in my little sea of dispair. In response Dante held me all the tighter against himself, and I folded into him like a ball. I turned my head to look at Louis once more, but it was too dark in here to see him without a flashlight, and Dante wasn't about to let me do that. Instead he stood there in the freezing darkness of the library and carried me like a baby, not once complaining or wanting me to stop. He stood there and let me cry for as long as I needed.

"It's all my fault!" I groaned. "This whole thing is my fault!"

Dante turned his face down towards mine and gave me a scowl. "Bellatrix, of course it wasn't your fault! Don't be ridiculous!"

"Yes it was!" I shouted into his chest. "I could have come down here and-"

"Bellatrix! There's no way that you could have possibly known that this was going to happen. This isn't your fault dammit!" Dante gave me a stern look. "Now stop beating yourself up about it. You've probably saved that old man's life a dozen times before anyway! He was homeless and you took him in and treated him like one of your own."

My head hurt I was crying so hard, and I didn't respond for a long time. But when I did it was in a whisper. "He loved it here," I recalled pitifully. "At least he died where he was happy the most."

Dante pulled me away from him a little and stood me up back on my feet. "That's my girl," he said. "That's one of the best gifts you can give a man. A long life and a home to come back to when it's over." He ran a hand through my big black curls and wiped away my tears with his thumb. For a minute we just stood there looking at each other, my brown eyes latched to his sapphire blues. Looking at him helped me to stop crying.

"Thank you for saying that, Dante." I whispered, looking over his face.

He smiled sadly for me and turned me back around while he covered Louis's body with his little red plaid blanket. He returned to my side and grabbed my arm, guiding me back to the front of the library like a boyscout and an old lady crossing the street. I didn't look at where we were going, I only focused on the knight that was Dante, here to rescue me from this devastation. Examining his tenacious and miraculous spirit, I found myself at that moment fully in love with him and all he had done for me. From meeting him five hours ago to now, my perception of him had completely transformed, and for that newfound knowledge and appreciation of his person I was truly grateful. Dante was someone that you can easily misjudge and crucify, but with a little conversation and a couple slices of pizza, this man had turned into someone that I couldn't picture myself living without.

Slowly I stopped walking and stood staring at him on my arm. He turned around to see if something was wrong and peered at me cautiously. After a few seconds I smiled at him sweetly, and he returned the favor to me.

"What?" he chuckled softly, looking at my pathetic little frame.

I blushed at the thought of what I was doing, but I pressed on. "... I just," I said through the tears, pausing to grin to make me stop crying.

Dante gazed at me, pushing a curl back behind my ear, which of course just bounced back into place over my eyes. I leaned against him and moved my unsteadied grip down from his arm into his hands. His face got close to mine, and the desire to kiss him sparked dramatically within me. There was a closeness there that I hadn't felt in such a long time. It was the same comfort that you feel when wrapped up in a warm blanket, or when you're sitting around the table sharing stories with your family. Inside me my heart began its quick pace once again, and a wave of heat rushed to my cheeks, nose, and lips. I wanted this feeling to go on forever, and I quickly became addicted to its presence and geniality.

His hands were so much bigger than mine that they engulfed them in skin and fingers and bone. They were smart hands, knowledgeable of many skills and experienced in them all. There was a strongness there that reminded me of something chivalrous. Across the tops of his hands were veins that traveled boldly upward into his forearms, and his street-wise athletic build made me feel protected. I couldn't help but smile widely in the face of this man- my savior and my friend. My tears were now tears of gratefulness.

My face brightened out of sadness and transformed into one of satisfaction, and an intensity to continue down this road. I had too many reasons now not to go and find the demon who was hunting down my family and friends. My mood sharpened into my own kind of courage, and I was ready for whatever had to happen. I was ready to kill it. The demon - both mental and physical - was acting up more frequently now, and I knew that this was my one and only chance to destroy it just as it had done to everything and everybody in my life. 23 years of my life had been spent trying to hide the memories of my past, but now I needed to dig up the clues to finding my family's killer. Soon it would be over. I could feel it.

Dante saw my change in demeanor and squeezed my hands tight, waiting for me to make a move. "You just what?" he mumbled coyly, as if talking to a child. He gave me his signature snear and a wink.

"I just wanted you to know that I appreciate and love you, Dante." I blushed for him, wiping my wet face with my free hand. After I told Dante, the devilish grin usually planted on his face disappeared. I was hesitant to continue now, but I knew that he valued honesty. "You are an invaluable friend to me, and-"

"Stop." he interrupted coldly, still holding onto my hands. I got nervous, and I instantly felt regret for what I had just said. His hawk-eyes were focused indefinitely on me, looking me up and down, examining me.

"What I tell you is the truth, Dante." I tried to let go of his hand, but he held on with no intention of letting me go anytime soon. All of a sudden, I felt a huge gust of icy cold wind, as if someone had opened the front door of the library. Slowly, Dante turned around to get a look at the lobby. An eery white glow came from behind the wall and covered everything inside with a thin film of light. Flakes of snow spread around into the air and onto the floor, and the sound of crackling and expanding ice echoed through the building, until it finally creeped around the corner and became visible on my desk and cuckoo clock. Chill bumps instantly covered my skin as Dante hurriedly pulled me behind a bookcase.

I got down and peaked just above the top of the thing, until finally the front doors of the Library were visible. For some reason, I thought that my vision was going blurry, as everything seemed to be discolored or out of place. On closer inspection I came to realize that everything looked like it had been nearly destroyed and hastily put back together again, and a strange red illumination shown brightly from the windows. For a second I thought that I was hallucinating, but this hauntingly creepy environment was entirely too real looking not to believe.

"Don't worry, you didn't hit your head or anything." whispered Dante hastily, as if he had just gotten through reading my mind. "You've been dragged into Limbo with me by whatever it is that's standing over there by the entrance."

I cocked my head over in Dante's direction and gave him an incredibly questioning stare. I quickly snatched my eyes away from his face and onto the massive broadsword that had just randomly appeared strapped to his back. "Limbo? ...As in Purgatory?" I scream-whispered back to him, eyes wide. He flashed me a cheesy grin and gave me a nod for yes. I swallowed, tears suddenly dried.

"You're gettin' ready for a show, sweetheart." He pulled out the two twin guns from his belt and held them up beside his head like some kind of a gunfighter. "Don't freak out. All we have to do is shoot this fucker and we're out." He pointed his gun towards the double-doors, motioning to get a look at the demon. I did as he said and poked my head up a bit to get a look-see.

The temperature in this nightmaric version of the library had dropped tremendously within just a few minutes. I began to shiver as I watched the room slowly become covered in thin sheets of ice. The swirls of snow that had warned us of the demon's presence were starting to pile up as a layer on the floor, and I began to realize that pretty soon this building was going to look like something straight out of Star Wars Episode V.

With my eyes barely peaking over the bookcase, I was taken aback by what I saw. Not 40 feet away from us stood a woman as white as snow; her skin was pale and glowing like the moon, and her hair and clothes were just as cryptically ashen. Her face was contorted and expressionless, never moving and always looking forward. She looked like she had been beaten to death, just like Louis. The demon had probably heard all of the commotion I caused after finding Louis's body and had returned to investigate. Well, if she was, she wasn't doing a very good job of it. Her eyes were looking straight at the back wall and nowhere else.

Watching the thing levitating there was starting to make me feel extremely uncomfortable. Her wasted and bloodless body seemed to be suspended in water, as her hair reminded me of mine swimming at the lake, and her arms and legs looked like a child's when they are pretending to be dead. Although she was obviously dead, the body could have easily been that of a loving mother, as her ragged clothes were gentle and tasteful; a sundress and sweater, like what you would wear on the boat. But first and foremost, the woman looked like a corpse who had been in the water too long. Her features had been obscured. The woman looked like a floater.

Even though it's perfectly natural to say that 'something's off' when describing a demon, there was _something off_ about this one without question. She seemed hauntingly familiar, much to my dismay. Like a friend from kindergarten that you see once again at graduation. You _know _them - you were _close _to them - but it was such a long time ago. _At least ten years ago,_ I calculated out of nowhere.

"Dante," I whispered. "... I think she wants to talk to me." I said, the disgusting feeling compelling me to get closer.

"What? No!" he replied, giving me a questioning look. "Don't do something stupid like that."

"But I feel like I've seen her before. She looks so familiar to me." I blurted out, slightly louder than I meant.

Dante quickly looked back at the demon to make sure that it didn't hear, and then back at me to make sure that I wasn't insane. I gave him the most sincere face I could muster, until finally he said, "Where have you ever seen something like that creepy bitch, Bellatrix? You got a death wish or something?"

I looked back over at the woman and tried to remember. Suddenly, the image of Dante came into my head, when he told me that demons can use dead human bodies as their own. That's when I pieced it together. When my aunt and uncle and their children drowned at sea, my aunt Katarina was the only one whose body was never recovered. I guess that this demon found it before any of the search and rescue teams did.

I felt sick. My stomach was in knots as I looked at her shell now; after all these years it looked like she had been mended and put back together again multiple times by the demon's powerful ice and snow. Katarina had been battered and beaten, like the sail of a ghost ship.

I turned back around to face Dante. "_It's my aunt!_ That demon has possessed my aunt's body." I whispered sadly. "_Oh God_... I need to finish this for her and put what remains of her body to rest."

My mind wandered to memories of the beach house in Maine. How Aunt Katy used to braid my hair and paint her nails a different color every 3 days. How she used to wear the prettiest clothes, and when I visited them how she used to let me stay up late to watch Casablanca and The Big Sleep. Humphrey Bogart was her favorite actor; she owned every movie he ever starred in. Every year for my birthday she bought me a leather-bound notebook with my initials in it for my drawings. She showed me the tattoo she got one night in college, a dragonfly that only a bottle of Centenario Tequila and an ex-boyfriend could conjure.

Katarina was a beautiful person who gave me memories that I will cherish forever. Even though her spirit had left her- the Katarina I knew- the body she had lost was still going. The very thought of it was violating. It was like this demon had tried Aunt Katy on like a new pair of shoes and decided she suited him. I clenched my fists and shut my eyes, trying to get the idea out of my head.

Dante's eyes widened for a second at the thought of just how much shit I had to slog through, but then his face came to rest at a place of hesitant resignation. "They'll do anything just to screw with you, huh? ...Those demon scum." Dante pulled out a dagger from his jacket pocket and handed it to me. "Listen, I get why you would want to do this, but just let me handle this."

_How dare you intrude on my family's business, _I thought briefly, not wanting him to take away my one chance at redemption in the eyes of my family. "At least let me help you." I spat. "Here, let me cast something." I snatched the dagger up in my hand and summoned up my energy again, this time moving it through my veins and every little cell that made up my fingers. With this angelic glow I poured my gift into the knife and transformed it into my weapon of choice. Within seconds the blast of light was over, and in my hand sat a noble white gladius that was sharp enough to cut any demon in half. I grinned over at Dante, who seemed absolutely fascinated. I held it out to him with pride.

"Since antiquity the gladius has been destined to lead the greatest army ever known. Even as angels, the race of my mother is charged with living in the world of man, and as such we must adapt to aid God's children. The gladius, the supposed invention of man, was created at the time of gods in the golden empire that was Rome. In reality, the parts of those worshipped were played by we angels and demons, who were closer to mankind _then_ than in any other age. The weapons of the angels -designed by Father God himself for the protection of man- was the gladius, and through this ancient connection we had with them, the sword was introduced to our favorites in Rome. Arming their legionnaires with the gladius, Rome conquered the known world and ruled for 507 years, worshiping us as their gods. But in the words of Tacitus, 'All things atrocious and shameless flock to Rome', and the once great civilization crumbled in the face of envy, lust, convolution, and greed. While man has abandoned the Holy Weapon for more sinful and destructive designs, the angels have kept the gladius as their own, perfect blade." I told him in a whisper, hesitant to gain the demon's attention, but obliged to tell him it's story. "This blade is my life Dante- _my family. _I have to do this myself."

Dante swallowed, now realizing the weight of my weapon. After a long pause, he slowly stuck out his hand as if to take my sword. "Listen. I know that you want to represent your family in this fight, but after all that's happened tonight I'm not convinced that you can."

"Dante, I-"

"Shut up, babe!" he interrupted angrily. "I'm trying to save that beautiful ass of yours. Now quit whining and listen."

I rolled my eyes. "Maybe my ass doesn't need saving. You ever think of that? I'm not just some PMS princess watching Netflix up in the tower waiting for prince charming to kill the dragon for me."

Dante shook his head and laughed in disbelief. "Alright then, _princess_. Forgive me for wanting to save you from getting beat to shit."

"Give me a break! I can hold my own!"

"Bellatrix! You're fucking exhausted! You won't last a minute if that thing decides it wants a piece." he said, pointing to my chest. "You don't know what that thing's gonna do."

I was adamant, and I clutched the sword to my chest, refusing to give it up. Without saying a word, I stood on my own two feet and turned to face Aunt Katy with the gladius by my side. Not but two seconds later, Dante jumped up and grabbed me by the arm, trying to pull me back down. With all my might, I broke free of him and glared at him, unmoving. Surprisingly he didn't try it again, and I quietly thanked him with a tiny grin.

About forty feet away from us with a few bookcases and desks in between us stood - or levitated, rather - my beaten and bruised Katarina. Now we had caught her attention for sure, as her crooked head had turned on its icy swivel to focus on the two troublemakers. The coldness in the room was showing us our breath now, but not the demon's. It was undead. It breathed on its own time.

Slowly, I moved towards her, sword held to the side in a passive-aggressive funk. My curly mop of black hair was crazy - I could catch a glimpse of my mane in the mirror of my office door. Every bit of me looked exactly like Dante's most recent description: a fucking exhausted crazy bitch. Hmph. Well, at least I wasn't possessed.

"Finally," spoke the ghost through Katarina's slacking mouth. "I have caught the last child of the Moses family in the most vulnerable position of a lifetime." Her voiced gargled like there was still water in her throat, and her impossible lips were a deadly shade of frostbiten blue. When she looked at me now, I finally realized that her eyes were glowing the most nauseating color of orange imaginable. I started to sweat from my heart beating so fast.

"Tell me, Bellatrix, why didn't you listen to your little friend here and run while you had the opportunity?" asked Katarina coyly. "You haven't slept in 37 hours, you're frozen to the bone, your_ pet_ just died, and you just entered Limbo for the first time in 17 years. What makes you stand a chance against _me_?"

Dante reentered my frame of vision and pulled out his two handguns with a _ca-click._ Aiming them directly at Katarina, Dante, with his usual sense of bravado, answered, "Because she's the head-fuckin'-librarian, and last time I checked, you're _way _overdue."


	5. I Swear I'm Not an Idiot

"_Alright sweetie, can you be strong for me? I'm going to be right here with you while you do this ok? And if at anytime you feel sick or scared, we can walk out and come back after a while, alright?" The police investigator fixed a bit of my hair, her gold banded wedding ring cold against the top of my ear. She was overweight, but seemed incredibly active; she looked exhausted, like she was always running around and doing something that dismissed sleep from her schedule. Her black dress slacks looked like something she'd bought at JC Penny's ten years ago, and even though they looked tight on her she had probably worn them so long that they were way too comfortable for her to throw out. Shopping probably wasn't convenient for her anyway, what with all the bodies of dead parents piling up around here like cordwood. She probably hadn't slept in days._

"_Can you be brave for me? Are you ready Bellatrix?" She asked, sickly-sweet with her coffee breath. "I'm sure that you're scared, but this won't take very long at all." She nodded in the direction of the other detective in the room, an older black man who kept pulling out his phone to check the time._

_When her attention returned to me, I gave her an empty look, my eyes just as tired and generally uncaring as hers. "I won't be brave for you," I whispered, toxic. The woman angled back a bit, trying to act like she was still concerned about the disrespectful teenager's problems. Not wanting to hear her annoying kindergarten teacher voice again, I quickly concluded my sentiment. "-I'll be brave for my mother."_

_The morgue was very white and grey. And cold. On the wall there were about 12 stainless-steel freezers for the bodies, and in front of us was a singular silver gurney with big wheels on the bottom of it's long skinny legs. A tall bald man had wheeled it out of another room for us to see. On top of it rested a navy blue body bag marked with the words _LIMBO CITY MORGUE _written down the line of it's zippers. _

"_Is this the female?" pointed the lady cop, her voice suddenly changing._

_The bald man nodded and said, "Um, yes, this is the one that was recovered from the crash..." he stopped himself suddenly, a guilty look on his face. "Are you sure she should see her mother this way, Tammy? I mean, how old is she, 10?"_

_Tammy the Investigator grinned quickly, obviously upset that this was taking so long. "Bellatrix is 13 years old, and I'm sure that if we just quit trying to scare her and get this over with-"_

"_Her head, though, it's..."_

_Tammy puffed and looked at me briefly, moving her hand down to join mine. "Her head is detached from her body? Yes, we know. We already told her before we came in here." She squeezed my indifferent hand with hers and gave another eerily apathetic grin. "She's prepared. And she's a smart girl, too." Like that even counted for anything._

_The bald mortician frowned at me and at Tammy, but eventually he started moving back around to the bag, the demands of his job taking precedence over common decency. "Alright. Um, Bellatrix." he said, clearing his throat afterwards. "When I unzip the bag I want you to say 'yes' if this is Rosamunde Moses, and 'no' if you think that this is a different person. Then I will immediately reseal the bag." he paused for a second to sigh. "Are you ready?"_

_My heart was beating just a little bit faster now, but by this point it wasn't anything new. My heart had been pounding ever since the boating accident, and now with _this_, I didn't feel like it would ever slow down as the idea of death and the newfound obsession about my own permeated my brain. Whether that was next week or fifty years from now, I knew that this feeling of dread, this damocles, would never leave me. All other feelings were microscopic in comparison to this one. Even my personality would take the backseat to this invasive depression, anger, and intense paranoia. _

"_It's now or never, I suppose." I whispered, mustering my best grin for him. He motioned for me to join him at the top of the bag, and taking his hand I walked the two steps closer to my mother's side._

_His hand seemed to move at the speed of sound, and a massive stench blasted my senses. The stench was personified by her eyes, which tried to say that they were sorry they ever left. _

"Bellatrix!"

A voice. I thought that I was alone in this blackness. That it was only me and the murkiness in my head. I felt like my body was drifting in something, some sort of water that I couldn't see or feel. My eyes wouldn't open either, no matter how hard I tried. It felt like my face had become an immovable mask. And what was this feeling in my stomach? It was like my insides were being pulled out and down deeper and deeper by an invisible hand. Echoes were bouncing around in my ears.

"-trix!"

_Dummes Mädchen. Dante war es für einen Grund._

I jerked. I tried to move my arms, my legs, anything that would help me to get up. Suddenly my head felt incredibly heavy, and the more I struggled inside to move the heavier and more uncomfortable I became. My insides were sloshing around, like I was seasick, and even though my plastic body made no attempts to move itself, I knew in my heart that someone was shaking me outside of the dark. Was it mother? _No, it couldn't be, _I thought. _That's the voice of a man. A man's voice._

A faint collection of sounds played in the distance, and I listened as I floated through it. A woman was chanting, over and over, "Angelus. Hic bene dormit. Angelus. Hic bene dormit." Her throat sounded gritty, but her song was captivating, along with the other strange sounds coming from the black water. Tiny bells kept chiming out of time with her, and a deep, vibrating humming sound constantly filled the space around us. It was like something out of a dream.

My eyelids suddenly filled with light, and even though I could not open them, I knew that what I was facing was heaven. Warmth brushed against my arms, and a breeze broke through the numbness, entwining itself around my fingers and around my ears, down my cheeks, and across my nose.

"_Come home to your mother._" It whispered to me. "_You may rest here with your father_."

Without moving my mouth, I replied to the invisible warmth, the feeling irresistible. "Is this Heaven?"

_Nehmen Sie die Mädchen zurück zu Dante. Ihr Werk ist hier noch nicht fertig._

Trying to stretch out my fingers, I instantly felt the need to vomit, and my gut was churning in waves. I knew then that I desperately needed to leave. I had to get out of here before the eyes find me again. I have to get out of here to swat away the gold band. Why couldn't he stop looking at the phone?

"Bellatrix!"

_Der Knabe fordert Bellatrix! Nehmen sie die mädel!_

Breath filled my lungs as I came up for air. My eyes stung when I flashed them wide open, but I was too scared to deny myself the right to see. Everything hurt, and everything was cold, except for a little area of warmth beside me, where I again found Dante, holding me up and close to him. Hot lines of blood were rolling down my head, and a pounding in time with my heartbeat hammered away at its' source. It felt like I had been slapped across the cheek. I was tempted to ask Dante how I had woken up, but I was shaking too hard to say anything, so instead I just sat there with him in the mounds of bone chilling snow, my blood and sweat slowly chilling and sticking to my skin and clothes.

The bile moved up from my stomach and through my throat, until finally I moved my head away to throw up onto the overturned bookshelf beside me. I pushed myself away and turned, closing my eyes at the force of it. When it was done it steamed, and my mouth felt disgusting and gritty. From what I could see it was almost entirely made up of blood. I started panting I was so out of breath, and I collapsed onto Dante, making sure to keep my grimey mouth away from him.

My eyes were wide and glued to him from my position at his waist, and as I looked up to him I couldn't help but notice how angry he was. Dante was looking at me like I was pathetic, like I was a dog getting kicked or a girl who wasn't cut out for demon killing. Quietly, I processed this in my head as my body stung and jerked, only to find that it made me mad. I was so mad at him. So mad at him for not believing that I could do it even after I did. I coughed up some more blood into my hand.

"She's dead, isn't she?" I screamed, shaking uncontrollably from the deep freeze, incredibly frustrated. My eyes welled up with tears, big hot ones that tumbled down my face like a river, covering my seemingly frostbitten cheeks in momentary warmth and washing away bits of blood. By the time they had reached the bottom of my face however, they were as cold as my gaze. I glared at him and trembled, beaten but still going. Used up but still there.

Dante looked down at me and covered my hands with his. "She's dead." he mumbled, reluctantly, nodding. He brushed the hair off of my forehead, his eyes looking everywhere but at mine. He opened up my palm to look at the blood spatter and frowned.

"Then that's all that matters to me, Dante!" I shouted, furious and exhausted. Mentally I felt like I was about to implode, but physically it felt like I needed to be reassembled. Everything I was feeling I put into that look, that glare into Dante's haunting blue eyes.

He read into it, but didn't care for my masochistic sense of justification. He didn't change his expression. "You think because you got your ass beat that everything's fine?" he yelled, rolling his eyes in disbelief. "I told you to let me handle it so that something like this wouldn't happen to you. Do you know how fucking close you came to kicking the bucket?" He sounded so mad. His hands gripped mine as I tried to jerk back and away from him. If he didn't understand me, I didn't want him to touch me like he did.

"But I didn't die, Dante! I didn't, and now I'm broken and tired, but damn it, at least I'm not dead!" I yelled, still shaking, still crying. His eyes softened for a second, but quickly clouded again. "I did this for the ones who are! Everybody I've ever loved is dead, and now I've finally done something about it! Now it's finally fair. I took a beating just like everyone else in the family did, but this time," I cried, "this time we were able to fight back..."

I fell back into him, unable to prop my body up on my own anymore. His chest radiating heat and his arms welcoming, I couldn't help myself but to feel comfortable within them. Against his shoulder I laid my head, my hollow breaths ricocheting back into my face from his skin. I began to shiver uncontrollably from the knuckle-biting cold; my clothes were soaked in a sweat that had begun to cool and freeze against my skin. My body wasn't producing heat anymore, and I was starting to lose feeling in my hands, feet, and face. The only thing that I could really feel was the pounding of my heartbeat in my skull and the stinging from the bile in my throat.

Although the wound was still bleeding, it had slacked off a bit; the blood clotting together with help from the cold. Dante's hands moved towards the top of my head, his fingers moving back pieces of my hair to get a better look at what the throw against the office wall had done to me. The tips of his fingers felt like a spider on my scalp, and my body rejected his touch out of discomfort.

"Bellatrix, you need to heal yourself. You need to do it now incase you black out again." Dante took his arms away from me to take off his jacket. It was amazing, but somehow Dante seemed entirely unaffected by the weather. In fact, when he took off his coat there weren't any goosebumps- only arm hair and sweat. He draped the red and black thing over me and wrapped me up tight within its' musk; the smell of pizza and acquired sex was still within the fabric. When he dandified me with it, a blast of heat came off of it, like opening up a car with black leather seats that's been sitting out in the parking lot too long. Whatever it was that he was doing to keep warm, it was working.

My apathetic eyes wavered up to meet his while my close-to-frostbitten fingers barely held on to the heavy jacket wrapped around my freezing shoulders. He still looked angry at me, but it wasn't phasing me. I turned my head to get a better look at Aunt Katherine, whose body I had pinned to the wall with my sword through her ribcage. Dante had landed a few shots at her heart and a great hit to her forehead. Because the demon had left her body, it had returned to the state that it should be in today; withered, thin, and slimy from the lake water.

Her hair had fallen out in huge hunks in places, but long beady strands of it still hung from her skull and the loose skin on her face and head. The sundress that she had been wearing on the boat that day was in tatters and incredibly sheer. It looked as if someone had draped it over her, because of how skeletal and thin she was now. She was sadly, completely unrecognizable.

At first I felt bad for having to kill her a second time to expel the demon, but after looking at this rotten body I knew that this wasn't Aunt Katy anymore. She had left a long time ago, and what we had destroyed was simply the house that her soul had left behind. While a house can help you describe yourself by the way you decorate it and live in it, it isn't you. You are the thing that lives inside it, just like a soul is in a body. And while that body does serve its' purpose, it isn't the most important thing that makes you, you. That part of Katherine was gone. It moved out. But I don't think that's a bad thing. I'm sure that her new place is way cooler, anyway.

I smiled through the greasy bile on my lips at the thought of her, but soon my headache wore away at the feeling. My right arm hoisted up into the air, and my hand opened wide, ready to welcome the death blade back home to my blood. With my mind, I called the gladius back to me, and using all of my might I tugged at it from across the room. The creaking of her bones against it grew louder and louder until finally they stopped with a _shiiing_. The sword came flying backwards into my hand, my brittle fingers twisting around its hilt with magnificent speed. Catching it just in time, I dissolved the heavenly metal back into my being, feeling it twist and turn in my veins. With this bit of power I began to heal myself again, and my broken ribs and pounding headache finally gave way to a soothing normality.

My nose popped back into place, and the bit of blood that had started dripping rushed back to its source. My vision cleared and my throat stopped stinging. The bad feeling in my stomach subsided. Finally, after about five minutes -the longest it has ever taken me to heal myself- I had finished the tedious process of reorganizing my body. I was relieved.

"The next time you pull something like that I will personally shove my foot so far up your ass that the water on my knee will quench your thirst!" shouted Dante into my ear. He pushed me over like a rag doll as he stood up to dust himself off. "I swear on my fucking mother, if you do something like that again, you're dead! God _dammit,_ Bellatrix!"

I sat up straight as a stick, shocked by his movie-quality-like threatening skills. "What the fuck, Dante!? I just killed it! I killed the demon! What do you want from me!?" I stood up too, pointing my little finger at him. "Get over yourself, you little whiny bastard! You're not the only one around here who can kill something!"

"That's not what I'm mad about you crazy bitch!"

"Look Dante, I don't care that you don't understand my way of thinking, but I don't need you screaming at me about something that totally worked out in the end!" I yelled, putting my body into it.

Angrily, he jerked back around to face me after running two worried hands through his hair. He closed his eyes, like he was trying so hard to understand my idiot theory. "You were unconscious for two hours."

I stopped dead in my tracks. "W-what?" I whispered, shocked that it had been that long.

Dante was still giving me a look, but this time it was different. Instead of just being mad, there was a hint of sadness there that I had never seen in him before. I could sense that something had happened to him before I woke up that he was probably too embarrassed to tell me about. His eyes were barely pink around the bottom lid, and quietly and humbly I instantly felt terrible about what I had done.

"I wasn't sure how close to dead you were, and honestly I was afraid to move you. I wasn't sure if you'd done something to your neck, and if I'd left you paralyzed because of that..." he trailed off, pinching his nose like he was tired. "Why the fuck didn't you let me handle it? Why didn't you just let me handle it?" He shook his head in disbelief. "Dammit..."

I looked at the floor, too ashamed to face him now. He had waited for me in this place for hours, all because I had what now, I really knew, was a deathwish. I thought back to the light, and the memory about floating so close to Heaven popped into my head. My body shook at the thought. _Was that my mother who was talking about me_? I wondered to myself. Thinking about her made the guilty feeling lessen in my stomach. I decided then and there that I wouldn't tell Dante about my seven minutes in Heaven; it was one less thing against me in my fight to win him over.

I snapped out of my little daydream and looked around a minute. The library was spotless except for the overturned bookcase that I had hit when my body was thrown backwards. The red vomit on top of it really looked great, and the pool of my drying blood soaking into the grey carpeting just really tied the room together. At least we were out of purgatory now, and everything about that fight had been left behind except for a few easily fixable Bellatrix Blunders. The power was still out, and a strange white glow was what poured through the glass windows of the library. _Isn't it morning by now? _It was absolutely freezing in here, and suddenly and morbidly a thought popped into my head about how well Louis's body would be preserved in here until we were able to come back to get him.

Louis. There's someone that I can look at. Someone that can justify my actions and give me a reason to fight. In the corner of the library where he slept, the light from the moon outside illuminated everything perfectly, and even from this distance I could see the outline of his boots propped up on his beanbags. It looked like he was taking a nice nap.

Like Daddy did on the machines.

Still looking at the children's shelves, silver tears rolled down the side of my face, bright white in the strange snowy glow. I felt like I had found the perfect thing to say to Dante, the final bit of information to share with my Destiny Man. I clung to the memory that I'd pulled from the random little box in my brain, and I sighed, ready to complete every little bit of everything that he needed to know. I had never told anyone this much about me, not even Louis or my friends from school. This man, Dante, though, was different than my other friends. He was on another level. He had secrets like mine, secrets that are unexplainable and disturbing as well beautiful and miraculous. We were the same, he and I. And yet we were on the other end of the spectrum entirely.

I clenched my fist to anchor myself to the conversation, and bravely turned towards Dante. "The day after the car accident that killed my parents, Daddy's body was still hooked up to life-support. He was alive they said, but he was brain dead. They told me that there was absolutely no chance of him ever waking up, and that since I was the last surviving member of the Moses family, I was the one that had to sign the papers to turn off the machine." I stopped to wipe my eyes. "But before then they sat me down to talk about organ donation. That they could still 'harvest the organs' that were still functional in his body... So, I told them that they could take them. What else was I going to say? I felt so cruel, thinking of the people whose lives could be saved by getting an organ transplant. I knew that at the funeral it would have to be a closed casket anyway; it would have to be because of the way his face had been scraped. I signed the papers for organ donation, and even got to meet one of the people who got something from Daddy. It was a little boy named Kai that got his heart. I had a list of all the people who got something; I had every single name. I would check on them sometimes to see if they were doing well, but within 3 months, every single patient on that list died."

Dante's eyes widened. "Naturally?"

I grinned quickly at him, saying what I wish could have been true. "No." I whispered, choking up now. "Each one was either shot or killed in a car accident."

Dante slowly shook his head in stunned disbelief. In his face, he seemed to completely forget ever being mad at me. "A demon tracked them all down and killed them? Just because they had one of your dad's organs?"

I nodded. "They want every piece of my family destroyed so badly that they killed those innocent people whose bodies were keeping his organs alive." I rubbed away a tear and dragged it across my cold cheek. "When I found out that they'd shot that little boy, I..." I whimpered, trying to keep myself from crying again. "I just lost it. I just completely lost it."

Sometimes, when I really think about the things that I've seen and lived through, I think about a movie that Daddy showed me a few weeks before he died. It's called Full Metal Jacket; it's about the guys who were drafted for Vietnam, and what happened to them psychologically after years of senseless and unchecked bloodshed. At the end of the movie, Joker, the main character, shoots and kills a child soldier, and afterwards gives the audience something called "the thousand yard stare". The stare is looking at nothing, leaving your eyes empty, covering them in some sort of a dreary film. For this kind of a look, you don't have to use your eyes to see. The memories themselves are so intense that they do that for you. And even though I've never been through a war in Vietnam, and I've never shot a child, I've been through things that nobody in this world should ever have to experience.

Apparently, this is what I was doing- the thousand yard stare- in the direction of Dante. I was somewhere else for a second; I'd checked out. Dante walked up to me, interrupting my line of vision and waking me up again. He stood about a foot away from me, and we eyed each other intently. We knew then that my anger was justified.

Even though I had only met him a few hours ago, I felt like Dante was one of my closest friends. Within this small amount of time he had learned practically everything there is to know about me and my past, and I the same with his. Standing here with him made me think that with the killing of the demon inside Katherine's body, came the last piece of a strange puzzle. We fully understood each other now, and knew what made each other tick. What made it special was the fact that it only took us five and a half hours to do it. ...And that we weren't exactly human.

Dante's radiant blue eyes drilled into mine, and I couldn't help but want him in that moment. He seemed so accepting, and he was one of the few people I had ever met with such a full understanding of the paranormal. He wasn't afraid of me, or confused by my existence. Dante saw a purpose in me and this friendship, and I didn't feel like the only one in the room anymore. While others might have secured some sort of friendship with me, no one could really understand, and there were certain topics and discussions that I had made off-limits with them. The only bad thing about that being the fact that my past was one of the biggest things that had made me, _me._

Dante had popped up out of the blue, and had turned out to be one of the easiest friends that I had ever made. In some ways, this is incredibly fitting. Everything in my life has happened in the blink of an eye; the car accidents, the body bags, the suicides, and the killings. It was only natural that any other major life event like this one would take just as long. Except with this one, the only person that had to die was already dead. There was still someone left in the aftermath.

"Ok," he whispered. "I get it. I understand the whole, _blood rage _thing now... But," he paused, grinning sweetly down at me. "Just let me do it next time. Please."

I smiled up at him, and stuck out my hand. "Deal," I replied, as we shook on it. His hands were strong, and overtook mine easily. "Does this mean that I get to keep you around for a while longer?"

"Not if you're going to almost die all the time." he laughed. "Sitting around waiting for your crazy ass to wake up isn't exactly fun. Shit. I even had to read a book to pass the time."

I laughed. "Wow, Dante! I never knew you'd stoop so low. And in a _library,_ no doubt."

Dante's devilish smirk spread across his face, and upon its reappearance I realized how much I'd missed it. "There you go doing that sexy librarian thing again." he chuckled, running a hand through his hair. "Why do you have to be funny on top of everything else?"

A blush erupted in my cheeks at the possibility of flirtation, and I wrapped my arms around myself in my usual awkward pose. "Everything else? What do you mean?" I asked, a little too loudly.

"For one thing, your hair drives me crazy."

The hint of a grin that had developed in my Dante-Day-Dreaming suddenly fell. I ran a nervous hand through my messy curls, too embarrassed now to look Dante in the eye at the thought of how crazy I probably looked. I blushed childishly for a second, but a glance at Dante's toothy smile caught my attention again.

"I'm sorry! I'm sure that it probably looks like a clown wig by now..." I whimpered, pressing it down all around.

Dante laughed through his nose and grabbed my wrist. "I didn't say that it looked bad." he mumbled. "I said that it drives me crazy." His eyes smiled at mine, and slowly I found myself being pulled closer to him. His eyes moved to my hair, and his other hand grabbed one of my thicker curls, rubbing it between his thumb and index finger. My cheeks were on fire as I watched him.

"I meant to ask you something back at your place, but then we left for Louis, and..." He grinned sweetly at me, avoiding the subject, still twirling my hair around his fingers. "...Well, I wanted you to know that when I ran into you at Lillith's tonight, I thought that I had seen you somewhere before. A long time ago, I bet, but I really think I have. Your hair is what made me remember."

I looked at him quizzically, but I didn't say anything. I liked the whole close-talking-hair-stroking thing, and I wanted it to last. My mind trailed back a little bit though, at how attractive I thought Dante was when I first met him. I smiled now, bubbly about how things had turned out. _Oh my God, Bellatrix,_ I screamed at myself mentally, _Will you calm down? Could you look anymore like a dipshit right now?_ I adjusted myself and stood up straight, trying not to think about girly things like possibly having rough, passionate, sweaty premarital sex with Dante. -_Dammit! What the actual fuck?_

"You said that you were orphaned about 10 years ago, right?" asked Dante calmly, letting go of my black curl. I snapped out of my disgusting girl thoughts at being asked a question.

I nodded, a little too enthusiastically. "Yeah, I was thirteen. I'm 23 right now, so it's been ten years." I paused to frown at how quickly the time had past since then. "I can't believe it's already been that long."

Dante grinned and puffed out through his nose in a sort of mild exasperation. "Well, I'm 24, and when I was about 14 years old I remember being at the courthouse and seeing someone that looked incredibly similar to you. And that was about 10 years ago." He looked up at me again. "I remember, because I thought that she had beautiful hair. That she looked like it had happened recently."

My brows scrunched up a bit at the remark, and I had to ask, "Like _what_ had happened recently?"

Dante angled his mouth into that certain sad look and said, "Your parent's deaths." he paused and cleared his throat. "You were still taking good care of your hair and your clothes. It was in that first stage of mourning where we all think that they're coming back... It takes a while to start forgetting to bathe, and to eat. I mean, it was obvious that you were distraught, but..."

As Dante trailed off, obviously uncomfortable about the subject matter, I shook my hands, telling him that I understood, and that I wasn't offended. "I get it. I know what you mean..." I said, quickly, almost stuttering. "I'm just trying to remember seeing someone who looked like you."

Dante chuckled a little, thinking about himself as a teenager. "I don't really expect you to remember. I wasn't really much to look at, and you probably had other, more important things on your mind..."

I smiled a bit at him, trying to recall the processes after the deaths of my parents. When Dante mentioned visiting the courthouse as a ward of the state, it made me think of my own little experience with that sort of thing. I had to sit in an office for three and a half hours one day after school; the same day that my parents had been killed. The principal of Limbo City Prep and the school nurse told me after they got the call in the middle of my science class. A few minutes drive over to the courthouse and I was there, in that little office with police officers, investigators, office workers, and Social Services. They kept peppering me with questions and comments and sympathies, and the whole time I was simply too shocked to do anything else but answer them.

"I was at the courthouse the day they were killed, filling out paperwork." I replied finally. My eyes flashed back to Dante. "I was in an office with two secretaries who kept talking about another ward; one that needed to be relocated."

He focused in on me now, and laughed, immediately recognizing the boy as himself. "_That_ would be me," he added, shaking his head. "Those heifers always hated me. I always made new paperwork for them to graze on."

I giggled at him, crossing my arms, trying to think of something else. "They actually sent me out of the room for a second- out to a big green bench in the hallway- and told me not to sit by him if I could help it. That he'd probably try to touch me, and that the last family he had had kicked him out for some terrible reason."

"But you sat next to me anyway." he interjected quickly. "In your little plaid skirt, and your big, black, thick, curly hair pouring out every which way. Oh _God_. Don't that sound like somethin' straight out of a porno?"

Suddenly a hand wrapped itself around my waist, and I could feel the tips of his fingers brushing against the small of my back. He pulled me closer, the heat from his chest floating in the air between us. Dante was unbearably warm, unnaturally so, and I desperately wanted to fold myself into him.

"If it was, I'd watch it. After all, I was in it. I was the greasy black rat that had squeezed his way out from underneath the cat's claws. I was the one who had never met anyone so pure as you- so good. You were clean and white, and tormented undeservingly by people like my fosters." He breathed into my hair, his cheek agonizingly close to mine. My body was pressed against his once again, and I couldn't ignore the blatant feeling of desire for me that came from him. "When I saw you so sad, I asked you who it was that I needed to kill for you to feel better again. That son of a bitch that would make you cry." He moved in front of my face again, this time only a few inches away. I could feel his breath on my cheek.

A sexual heat spread across my face, and I didn't feel cold anymore. I tried to stay focused nevertheless. If we really had met before, I wanted to make sure I remembered it. I went to my mental rolodex. Thoughts of Dante raced through my head, pictures going back and forth from each other to another and another. Suddenly, a boy came to mind, that couldn't be anyone else but him. A thin, tough kid with greasy black hair and bruises all over his face and arms. My eyes widened in understanding, and I grabbed his face with my hands, examining him as closely as possible.

"You were that poor boy on the bench! The one who had been beaten; that I couldn't believe was sitting there!" I let out a huge, shaking breath. "Oh Dante, that was _you_? Oh my God!" I choked, crying again just thinking about it. I would never forget how pitiful that boy looked. I felt so terrible for not making the connection, especially when he obviously had made an effort to remember the encounter.

"Yeah, that was me." he frowned, using his thumb to rub out my tears, tracing my cheek. My thin hands moved to his wrist, and I held him there, the skin rough on his well-trained fingers and palm. Our position was undoubtedly an embrace.

"That was after I blew up St. Lamia's Orphanage, and I got caught up in the explosion." a laugh came from his nose, and a huge, devilish smile spread across his face. I blinked at the thought of him doing something like that, but he quickly pointed a finger at me. "Don't gimme that shit, Bellatrix. Don't flash those big brown beauties at me and expect me to feel sorry about it."

I smiled sadly at him, feeling sorry for what he had to go through alone as a child. I was lucky in the respect that I had my parents with me for thirteen years, and that I was orphaned so late in life. Poor Dante never had anyone, and it showed. That's why he was so much tougher than me; because he had to be.

"I'm sorry I'm so emotional today." I whispered, rubbing my tired eyes until they were dry. "It seems like every 10 seconds I'm crying about something. It's just that... Thinking of you growing up like that is just... _terrible_."

My strong one looked at me sweetly and said, "That's because you're the most kindhearted person I've ever met. You haven't changed at all since that day." he beamed. "And I still have the coat that you gave me."

My heart stopped, the thought of my old academy coat hanging up in Dante's room was breathtakingly sweet. I had almost forgotten about it, considering that I had two others at home, but apparently Dante hasn't even let it out of his sight for 10 years. I was in awe at the way these things had played out.

"You still have that little navy uniform jacket? But it was too small for you even then!" I replied, thinking about the bruised boy on the bench. It was January, and the kid was wearing a dirty t-shirt and ripped jeans that he had outgrown by several inches. His shoes had tears on the sides from where it had started disconnecting from the sole, and his hair was greasy and wild. The more I thought about it, the bruises and welts on his face and eyes in combination with his wardrobe had made the younger Dante almost unrecognizable. I felt so sorry for him having to sit in that freezing hallway without a jacket, and it looked like he didn't even have one in the first place. When I gave it to him the sleeves barely reached his wrists, but he wrapped himself up in it nonetheless. I can't believe I'd forgotten.

"I kept it because it reminded me of the angel that came to visit me after I'd blown up an orphanage. She was an anomaly, and I was just lucky enough to catch one of her feathers before it fell to the ground." he said, his gaze moving between my eyes and my mouth.

I could feel the heat spread from my cheeks and down into the rest of my body. The desire that I felt for him in that moment was unlike any other feeling that I had ever experienced before, and I knew that what I wanted was something more than a kiss on the cheek. I _needed_ Dante. The entire being that was Dante, and everything that came with that. A sensation shivered its way through my body, and I could tell that deep down, _this _was who I was meant to be with.

"Bellatrix," he whispered, his breath hot beside me. His wise hands wrapped around my waist and ran themselves down to the small of my back. "I want to do something with you that I would need your permission to do. Something that would change you- take something away." His stunning blue eyes drilled into mine as my heart beat faster and faster at the thought of him. I needed him to say it. I just needed to get this over with.


End file.
